Chapter 8: The Collision
It happened on a crisp Tuesday morning. Marcus, heading to a desperate meeting with investors in the gentrified arts district, stopped to grab a coffee at a crowded local bakery. He pushed past the line, his usual arrogance intact, and froze. Behind the counter stood Sarah. She wasn't the pale, terrified woman he had thrown out. She was radiant, laughing with a customer, exuding a quiet power. Then, a tall, handsome teenager walked out of the kitchen carrying a tray of fresh croissants. "Mom, oven three is clear," Leo said. Marcus felt the air leave his lungs.
