Katrina.
(Six months later)
I stood behind the counter of my small restaurant, aptly named "Moonbeam's", giving a warm smile to the customers who walked into the cozy building. The bell above the door jingled merrily, announcing the arrival of another friendly face. Both regulars and newcomers alike were greeted with equal enthusiasm, their loud greetings reverberating in the small space. I'd chuckle and chat for a while before responding with equal warmth, happy to see their faces light up as they entered my little haven.
The air was filled with the enticing scent of freshly brewed coffee, oven-fresh bagels, and cookies, wafting from the kitchen where my talented baker, Emma, worked her magic. Located in a small town that barely saw outsiders, Moonbeam's had become a staple, a place wh
