The street was alive with the hum of evening—neon signs flickering to life, the smell of grilled meat and fried dough drifting from corner stalls, voices blending into the rhythm of a city winding down from its day.
Luca walked slowly, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning the familiar row of shops.
His stomach had been quiet all afternoon, too focused on work to notice, but now it growled softly, reminding him.
He stopped in front of a small restaurant tucked between a convenience store and a florist, the kind of place with handwritten menus taped to the window and mismatched chairs inside.
The warm glow spilling onto the sidewalk felt inviting.
He pulled out his phone, thumb hovering over Noel's name. Then he hesitated.
*He's probably still working.*
Luca pocketed the phone and pushed the door open. A bell chimed overhead.
"Welcome!" the owner called from behind the counter, wiping his hands on a towel.
