The café was called Rivière. Small, warm, with golden light that fell softly across wooden tables. Maya pushed open the door and immediately saw him.
Daniel was already there, sitting near the window. He was looking down at his phone — then he looked up.
For a second, neither of them moved.
Then he smiled. That slow, genuine smile she had noticed in his photos. He stood up, a little awkwardly, and said, "Maya?" — as if he needed to be sure, even though he clearly already knew.
"That's me," she said. "Sorry, am I late?"
"No. I was just early."
She sat down across from him. Up close, his eyes were darker than she expected — a deep, quiet brown. He had a small scar above his left eyebrow that wasn't in any of his photos. She noticed it immediately and, for some reason, liked it.

