**Evergreen, Colorado – 8:42 a.m.**
Arthur sipped his coffee in Lupine Ridge Café, seated at the same corner table. Notebook open, pen idle. Across the room, Sophie poured lattes like nothing had changed.
But everything had.
He knew.
She knew.
Neither said it.
Instead, they performed the dance.
“You ever write about small towns?" Sophie asked lightly as she handed him a blueberry scone.
Arthur raised a brow. “They have their uses. Quiet on the outside, storms underneath."
“Sounds personal."
“Could be," he said, tearing off a corner of the scone.
Leah appeared beside him, swinging her backpack. “You draw weird symbols in your notebook."
Arthur looked down. “That's shorthand."
“For what?"
He smiled faintly. “For not getting caught."
Sophie's voice sharpened. “Leah, go check if
