“Last one,” he says, and I can hear the ghost of a challenge in his voice—a distraction tactic. “Name two things you’d add to a vertical coaster launch to make it more efficient.”
I pause, the absurdity of the question forcing my brain to pivot. I’m no longer an eight-year-old girl in a burning room. I’m an engineer. “A... a magnetic synchronous motor,” I breathe out, the technical terms acting like a balm. “And a dual-stage hydraulic catch-car.”
“There she is. Our newest engineer is back.” I can hear the relief in his exhale. “Now, two things,” he says, his voice regaining that firm, authoritative edge, but without the bite. “You’re going to keep breathing, and we’re going to keep moving.”
My stomach lurches. “I can’t?—”
“You can,” he cuts in. “One step at a time. Count them if you need to. I’m right here.”
I swallow. My legs feel too heavy and too shaky. Like they belong to someone else. But I force myself upright. Theo doesn’t let go of my shoulder. His hand stays exactly where it is, steady pressure through fabric.
“Start,” he says.
I take one step. Then another. The flashlight beam bobs gently with my hands, illuminating the edge of each stair like it’s a pathway instead of a trap.
Theo keeps talking. Rambling about how I apparently committed a crime choosing spaghetti over the signature gnocchi at Mamma Lina’s. I murmur the occasional “uh-huh,” only half listening.
It feels like drifting in and out of sleep on a moving train. One moment you’re awake, and the next you’resuddenly at the final station with no memory of the stops in between.
When the fog finally thins, I register the sound of a lock turning. A soft, deliberate click.
“Katie, I know it’s early, but can you sneak us in?” Theo says. His voice is low and controlled. “It’s an emergency.”
“Only because it’s you, Theo,” replies a woman in a white apron over a black T-shirt and pants.
The door opens wider, and cool air washes over me. Theo guides me forward, his hand hovering near my elbow. It’s not quite touching, but close enough to catch me if the world starts to tilt again. He eases me into a chair, and I blink hard, trying to catch up with my own body.
A red-and-white checkered tablecloth stretches across the table in front of me. A basket of warm bread sits beside it. Soft curls of steam rise from beneath the cloth. We’re at Mamma Lina’s.
The place is deserted. Chairs are stacked on the tables, and the lights are dimmed low. I watch as the woman, who has light-brown hair pulled into a neat bun, flips the sign toCLOSEDand turns the lock.
“Lina’s stepped out with Leon.” She chuckles. “So for now, you’re stuck with me,” she says, wiping her hands on her jeans as she turns back to us. “What can I get you?”
“Two waters and two of my usual for now,” Theo replies immediately.
She nods and disappears, returning moments later with the requested items. She sets them down quietly, then gestures toward the kitchen. “I’ll be in the back working on the bread. Call me if you need anything. I’m starting on the pumpernickel loaves.”
“Thank you,” Theo says.
She gives a small smile and vanishes into the kitchen.
I stare after her, still trying to piece together the last ten minutes. “Who was that?”
“Katie.” His tone is gentle. “She’s Lina’s right-hand woman and a brilliant tennis player.”
“Oh.” My voice sounds too bright, like I’m pretending at normal and hoping no one notices. “Do you play tennis?”
“No. I’m not that coordinated.” He slides one of the glasses toward me. “Drink this,” he says softly. “Then we can talk about anything you want.”
My fingers shake when I reach for it. I curl them tighter around the cup until the tremor fades. The dark liquid inside the coffee cup ripples, sloshing close to the rim without spilling. Steam curls upward, twisting into delicate shapes before fading into the air. I eye it warily. “What is this?”
“Lina’s signature drink.”
That tells me absolutely nothing. I lift the mug and smell a deep, rich coffee softened by something faintly sweet, almost floral. Cinnamon? Vanilla? Maybe both. The heat seeps through the ceramic and into my palms, steadying me in a way I didn’t realize I needed.
I take a sip. “Mmm...” The sound slips out before I can stop it. “Thisisexactly what I needed.”
When I look up, Theo is watching me. One brow arches, the corner of his mouth twitching like he’s barely restraining himself. “Careful,” he drawls. “If you make a noise like that in front of Lina, she’ll rope you into writing a five-star Yelp review.”
