The London rain tapped softly against the café windows, a rhythmic hush that seemed to slow the world outside. Cassie sat at a corner table in a warm sweater, a worn leather notebook in front of her, tea steaming gently beside her.
She hadn’t planned this trip.
Hope had called unexpectedly the week before, voice calm but urgent. “Mom,” she’d said, “there’s something I want to show you. But you need to see it in person.”
Cassie didn’t ask questions. She booked her flight that night.
Now, here she was watching through the misted window as Hope crossed the street, hair tucked into a bun, umbrella swinging casually by her side.
“Still hate the rain?” Hope asked, grinning as she slid into the seat across from her.
“Still pretending you like it,” Cassie teased back.
Hope laughed, pulled a
