THE NEXT DAY
ISABELLA
I knew something was wrong the moment I opened the café door. It was too quiet. Not empty, calm in the way a room gets when people are trying very hard not to explode. Michael and Wanessa were standing behind the counter together, shoulder to shoulder, both grinning so hard it looked physically painful. Michael was vibrating. Wanessa had her arms crossed, chin lifted like a proud general surveying a conquered battlefield.
"Why do you look like that." I asked cautiously, setting my bag down. "Did someone die or did someone get engaged?"
Michael spun the tablet toward me.
"No one died." He said breathlessly. "But the internet did."
I frowned and leaned closer. It was a review, not just a review, but a headline. "A Cafe that shouldn't exist - and a pastry that ruined me." Under it, a picture of my apple tart.
My hands started shaking.
"Read the second paragraph."Wanessa leaned in beside me.
