Zara stepped into the café, her senses immediately assaulted by the warm scent of freshly brewed coffee mingling with the buttery aroma of croissants.
It was the kind of place that seemed to have its own hum… a lively buzz of chatter, the clinking of cups, and the occasional hiss of the espresso machine. The place was cozy but bustling, and it was a popular haunt, especially in the evenings like this one.
Croissants were Lucy’s favorites and she loved to have it before her night shift, whenever she could get her hands on them.
So Lucy had asked her to grab some coffee and croissants for her night shift, and Zara had agreed. She didn’t mind errands; it gave her something to do, kept her thoughts from spiraling into the increasingly familiar void of Allen-related musings. Or at least,
