THE evening light spilled lazily into the coffee shop of the mall, casting warm amber shades over the glass walls and polished floor. Outside, the sky was painted with strokes of purple and orange as the sun bowed to the night. Inside, the low hum of chatter mixed with the clink of cutlery against porcelain.
Vivian sat alone at a corner table, scrolling endlessly through her phone, her fingers moving without thought. Her table was bare except for a small leather bag resting on it, the zipper glinting under the soft lights. She had been waiting, though she pretended otherwise, crossing one leg over the other with a careless air.
Then, like a scene entering its cue, Claire walked in. Beautifully dressed, poised as ever, she moved with the confident sway that commanded attention without nee
