Rosa’s shift was nearing its end when her phone buzzed with an unknown number. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the screen, before finally sliding to answer.
“Hello?”
“Good evening, Ms. Rosa. My name is Nicholas—the man you collided with this evening at the coffee shop,” the voice on the other end said, his tone smooth and professional.
“Oh, right,” Rosa said, her hand instinctively going to the faded stain on her uniform. “But please, there’s no need to transfer any money. It’s really okay.”
A long, heavy silence stretched over the line before he spoke again, his voice dropping an octave.
“I’m the son of your father’s lawyer,” he said. Rosa’s brow furrowed, her mind racing to piece together a face from a lifetime ago. “You likely don't recognize me; you were very young when we
