Maya Carter had spent most of her life in the foster care system, moving from home to home. She was used to being a stranger in every place she stayed. Now, at 17, she worked at a small local café, doing her best to stay out of the way of people who would judge her. She had learned the hard way that the less people knew about her, the better.
That is, until the day he walked in.
He was tall, with shaggy dark hair and a confident yet weary look in his eyes. A young man in a designer suit who seemed entirely out of place in the small café. Maya couldn't help but notice him when he sat at the corner table, quietly observing the world around him.
"Can I get you something?" Maya asked, pulling herself away from the counter.
He looked up, meeting her eyes with a half-smile. "Just a black coffee. Thanks."
Something about him piqued her curiosity, and she couldn't shake the feeling that he wasn't just another rich kid slumming it in the café. There was a weariness behind those sharp green eyes, something deeper than the polished exterior he wore. As she handed him his coffee, their fingers brushed.
The spark was instant.
"I'm Henry," he said, looking up from his drink. "You're Maya, right?"
Maya blinked, surprised. "How do you know my name?"
"I've seen you around. You're the only one who doesn't look like you're trying to escape your life," he said with a faint smile.
That was the moment Maya knew Henry Radcliffe was no ordinary customer.