They ended up at a cozy, dimly-lit cafe a few blocks away, tucked away from the city bustle but within walking distance. It was the kind of place that smelled like fresh coffee and pastries and had an honest-to-goodness barista instead of a glorified machine.

Callista sank into a chair with a steaming cup in hand. The rich, velvety smell of hot chocolate and cinnamon swirled around her, and for the first time in weeks, she felt something like herself.

She took a slow sip, savoring the taste and ...