"Tracy, you awake? Had breakfast yet? You'll be okay on your own, right?" Moanna's voice chirped through the phone. "Before Crimson Bistro reopens, I'm taking a little trip. Already got my ticket—don't go crying over me while I'm gone. I'll bring back souvenirs for you and the kiddo."
Tracy froze mid-bite, toast crumbs tumbling from her lips. What kind of nonsense was Moanna spouting now? She'd barely wiped the sleep from her eyes.
Moanna's parents were legendary globetrotters—they'd stargazed in the Sahara, braved polar bears in the Arctic, even survived Africa's wilderness chasing adrenaline highs. Yet their daughter would rather binge Netflix than board a plane. So why this sudden wanderlust?
Something smelled fishy.
"Spill it. What's really going on?" Tracy demanded.
"Ugh, fine. P
