*Roanne’s POV*

The neon sign of the diner buzzed like a nest of anxious wasps, flickering against the dawn's creeping light. I pushed through the door, the scent of freshly brewed coffee and buttery pastries hitting me with comforting familiarity. My eyes scanned the booths and found Lizzie, her hair a wild cascade of curls, laughing in a way that seemed to make the whole room brighter.

"Ro," she called out, waving me over.

My heart thrummed with a mix ...