We paid and left.
Victor was outside.
Him and Mariabell both, standing on the narrow pavement with two paper cups that were clearly from somewhere else, which meant he had found a second coffee shop in the time we'd been inside and had strong feelings about it.
"There's a better one around the corner," he said by way of explanation. "I forgot it existed until I smelled it."
"You forgot a coffee shop existed."
"I repressed it. Emotional reasons. The owner once told me my order was wrong and I didn't come back for a long time." He handed me a cup. "He was right. I was ordering it wrong. I've come to terms with it."
Mariabell, beside him, had the serene expression of a woman who had heard this exact story at least four times and found it better each time.
Liliana took the cup he'd gotten for her without being asked and looked at it.
"How did you know what I take?"
"Valerian told me once," Victor said. "Some time ago. I retained it for reasons I refuse to examine."
