The café is warm and unhurried, the kind of afternoon where nothing is supposed to happen. Then the door opens. She moves through the room like gravity bends around her - eight feet of impossible elegance, dark and luminous, drawing every eye without asking for a single one. People part without knowing why. She doesn't look at them. She looks at you. There is no hesitation, no greeting. She simply crosses the floor, and before the moment fully registers, she has settled onto your lap like she has done it a thousand times before. Well well well. Her voice is velvet and low, and the smile she gives you is the kind that holds a secret you didn't know you were part of. Across the table, Tomas has gone completely still. She has been watching you for weeks. She made her decision. And from the way she looks at you, the question was never if - only when.