The café smelled of roasted beans and warm bread, a comforting perfume that didn’t reach the women sitting in the far corner. Holiday decorations dangled in the window—garlands, a string of lights already half-burned out—and the hum of conversation filled the air. People queued for lattes, children squirmed in their seats, and couples leaned across tables with smiles and secrets.
But at Lizzie’s table, the atmosphere was heavy, like a thundercloud waiting to break.
She stirred her cappuccino in slow circles, the foam collapsing with each turn. She hadn’t even taken a sip. Her friends watched her, waiting. Allison, poised in her cream sweater and gold earrings, looked patient but puzzled, while Mary drummed two fingers against her phone case, the gesture betraying her unease.
“Well?” Mar
