Chapter 18
Nora's POV
On Sunday morning, I took Mia out to breakfast. Not at the penthouse, not with a room service tray balanced by the window, but somewhere ordinary. A real table in a crowded diner, the air thick with the smell of pancakes and fresh coffee, children laughing too loudly in the background while waitresses moved between tables carrying steaming plates. I wanted her to have something normal for once, something that felt simple and real.
We found a little diner three blocks from the Skyview, the kind of place with red vinyl booths, sticky laminated menus, and a waitress named Dot who called everyone “honey” and refilled your coffee before you realized the cup was empty.
Mia ordered chocolate chip pancakes with a side of bacon and finished every bite on her plate. Watchin
