Chapter 117: Shared space
The streets were calm, Sunday-slow. A few scattered clouds softened the sunlight, casting light shadows across the sidewalks.
Luca tucked his hands into his hoodie pockets, crossing the road at an easy pace. His steps weren’t rushed—just steady, casual. Like he’d walked this route a hundred times before.
At the corner, the small restaurant waited, modest and familiar. Its glass door stood slightly ajar to let in the breeze. A soft chime rang as he stepped inside.
"Morning," the woman behind the counter greeted, drying her hands on a towel.
Luca offered a half-smile. "Morning."
He stepped closer, eyes skimming the menu on the wall—same options, but he hesitated, brows furrowing slightly.
"Something light," he murmured to himself.
The woman waited patiently. Behind her, the faint clatter of pans mixed with the low hum of a radio coming from the kitchen.
"Can I get the egg sandwich," he said finally, "with the fresh wheat bread. Not toasted."
She nodded, scribbling it down. "One or two?"
"Two," Luca replied. Then after a pause, "And do you still have that lemon soft drink? The bottled one?"
She turned toward the cooler, checked, then nodded. "Yeah. Last two."