Afternoon drapes the city in golden haze, and at the corner table of a cozy café not far from the central office district, Vanessa sits with Jenna, Ana, Solara, and Eliane. Glasses clink lightly, utensils scrape over ceramic, and the scent of fresh herbs and grilled chicken fills the air. Vanessa pushes a cherry tomato around her plate, her thoughts elsewhere, but Jenna, ever observant, picks up on the silence.
Jenna sets down her fork and leans in slightly. "So," she begins casually, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, "did you end up meeting Richard yesterday?"
Vanessa looks up, startled for a second. Then she nods, her voice low but clear. "Yes, I did."
The table falls silent for a breath. Even Solara, who was mid-sentence with Eliane about some gallery exhibit, pauses. Jenna doesn't pry—yet. Her eyes scan Vanessa's face, measuring her tone. "And?"
