The first light of dawn slipped softly through the sheer curtains of Sabina’s apartment, brushing her face with warmth. She stretched slowly, wincing slightly at the soreness in her shoulders. Another night of restless sleep had left her mind tangled with worry, yet a sense of anticipation lingered beneath the anxiety. Today, she would finally speak to Jamiro—not through messages or phone calls, but face to face.
Sabina had known Jamiro for nearly two decades, though the years had changed both of them. He was no longer the young man she had admired quietly in her youth; now, he carried the quiet strength of experience, tempered by the kindness that had always drawn her to him. He was steady, patient, a man whose presence could calm the storms within her heart.
She had spent the last few
