Chapter 1
Sadie
My dashboard clock reads 4:47 a.m. as I roll into the deserted lot at Pike’s Perk, right on the dot. In the rearview, Poppy’s still asleep in her car seat, one pudgy hand curled around her stuffed giraffe.
“Just a few more minutes, sweetheart,” I whisper, but she doesn’t budge.
Keys jangle in my hand, car, apartment, café front, café back, storage. The cold metal bites at my fingers in the predawn air. Slinging Poppy’s diaper bag over one shoulder and her travel crib under the other arm, I manage to scoop her against my chest without waking her. Her warm weight anchors me.
At the back door, the lock sticks like always. One, two, three stubborn turns, and it finally gives.
Next up: security check. It’s so ingrained I do it on autopilot. Door locked behind me. Check. Storage room clear. Check. Office untouched. Check. Café area empty, front door bolted. Double check.
In my office, I pop open Poppy’s crib and settle her inside, tucking the quilt around her with practiced ease. The baby monitor goes on the counter, its steady green glow like a tinybeacon. I linger for a few heartbeats, watching her chest lift and fall, then slip back to the main floor.
The café startup routine runs through my muscles without thought. Lights on. Espresso machines warming. Cash counted. While the systems boot, I flip through yesterday’s receipts. Sales are down eight percent from last week. For a Tuesday in March, it could be worse, but it’s nowhere near where it needs to be.
My planner’s already open to today’s to-do list. Marissa texted last night, something about her son’s school play, so I’m short-staffed until noon, again. Pen in hand, I scribble out the morning lineup and wedge myself into every gap. Our almond milk stash is almost gone, and the chocolate croissants everyone loves still haven’t arrived from yesterday’s order.
A slow burn of exhaustion settles behind my eyes as I stare at the laptop spreadsheet, the numbers I’ve been dodging. Three more months of this slump and I’ll be dipping into my dwindling savings. My stomach gives a slow, sour twist.
The baby monitor crackles with Poppy’s soft sigh. Still asleep. Still safe.
My phone vibrates, a mystery Oregon number. My heart rate spikes. I hit decline and tuck the phone away like it might bite. That unopened court envelope still lurks in my glove compartment. One crisis at a time, Sadie.
At 5:18 a.m., the back door squeaks open. My hand twitches toward my phone, then Saul’s familiar shuffle reaches my ears.
“Morning,” he says, hefting his baking supplies. Flour dusts his black tee already. “Little one still out?”
“Like a rock,” I reply, my shoulders loosening. “Coffee’s almost there.”
He grins. “You’re a saint.” He drops his bags and stretches, joints cracking. “Schedule change again?”
I pass him the updated sheet. “Marissa’s out until noon. Think we can handle the rush?”
“We always do.” He winks and disappears into the kitchen, metal bowls clanging as he pulls them from the shelves.
At the counter, I flip on the order tablet and brace myself to keep this place running for another day.
The back door swings open at 6:15 on the dot. Rowan stomps in, messy bun, travel mug in hand, confidence rolling off her like she owns the place.
I’m behind the counter when she appears. My spine goes rigid, fingers pausing over the register before I catch her eye.
“You brought home coffee when you know mine’s better?” I nod at her mug.
She snorts. “Yours is better, but mine was ready at five a.m. Some of us value sleep over punctuality.” She leans forward on her elbows. “Where’s my favorite niece?”
I roll my eyes. “Your only niece is still crashed in the office.”
“Semantics.” She slings her jacket on the hook, practically engraved with her name. “Also, you look like hell.”
The stainless steel under the counter throws back my reflection. Dark circles, frizzy hair, skin rubbed raw from too many late nights. Exhaustion sits on my face like a mask I can’t peel off.
“New look.” I shrug.
“Very… chic.” Her eyebrow arches, then her expression softens. “Rough night?”
“Poppy’s cutting another tooth. Coffee’s my only lifeline.”
