The first light of spring slid over Maple Hollow, turning the puddles from last night's rain into mirrors of gold. Inside the café, the air already smelled of coffee and vanilla, and Hannah moved through the quiet like someone humming a favorite song.
Emma sat at the corner table, sketchbook open, chin resting on her hand. The morning rush hadn't started yet; the world was still soft around the edges. She loved these minutes—the hush before laughter, the warmth before words.
"You're staring," Hannah teased, glancing over her shoulder as she refilled the pastry case.
Emma smiled. "Observing. It's what artists do."
"Observing, huh?" Hannah crossed her arms, mock-serious. "That better end up as a masterpiece."
"It already is."
Hannah rolled her eyes but the corners of her mouth curved upward.
Outside, a delivery truck rumbled past, scattering the quiet. When the sound faded, Hannah poured a second cup of coffee and set it in front of Emma. Their fingers brushed—an easy, familiar contact that still managed to send warmth through both of them.
"This feels like a beginning," Emma said, wrapping her hands around the cup.
Hannah tilted her head. "Because it's spring?"
"Because everything feels… settled. Like we finally get to build instead of catch up."
Hannah nodded, leaning against the table. "Then let's build something worth remembering."
Emma's smile deepened. "We already are."
Outside, sunlight climbed the café windows, spilling across the sketches on the wall—small moments frozen in pencil and ink: a cup, a smile, a pair of intertwined hands.
It was a new season, but the same quiet magic lingered in the air—the kind that promised change, and the courage to meet it together.