hts casting a golden hue over the damp cobblestones. Kate hugged her coat tighter as she stepped out of the shop, the jingle of the doorbell fading behind her. Tom stoo

sked, his voice warm des

ely knew this man, but curiosity-and the faint spark of hope

ounds of the city fill the silence. The distant hum of traffic, the occasional burst of laughter from a ne

long?" Tom asked,

best shortcut when the Tube's down but

"Belonging is overrated. The best disco

inged with bitterness. "T

en buildings, giving the alley an almost magical quality. Tom stopped in fro

layers, like a palimpsest. Every street, every corner-it's all built

being poetic or just cryptic. "

as light and genuine. "O

mppost, the initials etched into a brick wall, the faint outline of an old sign barely visible beneath layers of paint. His enthusiasm was contagious, and

us now about the man who saw London as something

But I've been here long enough to f

ps, handing one to Kate. The warmth seeped through her gloves as she

o London?" Kate pressed

she almost missed it. "Let's just say I needed a f

d, she shifted the focus. "And what do you do when you're n

ess. "I help people see things differently. Sometimes

an eyebrow.

edge to it. "Let's just say I'm i

aned against the railing, the cold metal biting through their gloves. Kate felt an inexplicabl

y the shop tonight?" she a

e most ordinary places can hold a little magic." He turned to her, his expressi

he said them-like he'd seen a part of her she'd tried to

that?" she said, her tone l

soft. "I've be

y finally parted ways, Kate felt lighter, as if some invisible weight had been

the best stories are the

years, she found herse

and Famil

hood neighborhood came into view. Rows of terraced houses stood solemnly under the gray sky, their uniformity broken only by the occasional Christmas light display. H

r hand on the door handle. It wasn't just the embarrassment of returning home at thirty, defeat

es marked by the weariness of a life that had never been kind. Petra's Yugoslav accent soften

house was just as she remembered: cluttered but warm, with old family photos crowding every available surface. She noticed a new addition

called, her voice carryin

n Andrich had been a lawyer in Yugoslavia, but here in London, he drove a minicab to make ends meet. His han

te closed her eyes, letting herself sink into the famil

ound tinged with sadness.

r tone both cautious and hopefu

er breath, but her mother either

he epitome of success: confident, composed, and impeccably dressed. Her sharp cheekb

Marta said without looking up,

ate shot back, her defen

luttering nervously. "Girls, please.

chair; the tension in the room was palpable. Marta finally closed

r voice low but cutting. "I didn't

t have to rub it in. I'm not exa

red his throat. "Marta, enough. Kate'

her laptop. Petra busied herself in the kitchen, the clatter

She spoke with the confidence of someone used to winning, detailing her latest cases and high-profile cl

what's the plan, Kate? Going to get another dead-end j

er plate. "Not everyone has it

g sorry for yourself, you'd

h the tension. Both daughters turned to her, surp

ed away, her jaw tight, while Kate star

er childhood bedroom, she heard a soft knock at the door

dge of the bed. "I just... I worry about you. I

searching for sincerity. "You

"You're not the only one carrying secrets, you know. I... I ha

onfession was as unexpected as

I'm not ready to tell them. But you... you deserve to know. Maybe I'm so hard on you

ng Marta's. "You don't have to do

t of connection. In the quiet of that small bedroom, they began