Elisia set the empty cup down with a quiet clink, the finality of it settling into her bones. Her father’s words still lingered in the air between them, offering a support she hadn’t expected but found herself clinging to nonetheless.
She exhaled slowly, glancing down at her hands. “I should probably go,” she murmured.
Her gave a small nod, his gaze unreadable. “You have a lot to prepare for.”
She did. And yet, she hesitated. Leaving the café felt like crossing a threshold—one step closer to New York, one step further from everything familiar.
Her father studied her, his fingers tapping once against the wooden table. “You’re ready for this, Elisia.”
She looked up, searching his face. “How can you be so sure, Dad?”
A ghost of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Because I know
