PREVIEW

... zy hum of murmured conversations weaving through the warm air.

Clinking mugs and the hiss of the espresso machine threaded a rhythmic pulse, the scent of roasted beans thick and heady.

Kaito Nakamura sat stiffly across from Mika Sato in the corner booth, his cracked glasses fogging faintly from the steam curling off her latte.

His denim jacket clung damp to his shoulders, the drizzle outside still seeping into the fabric, a chill prickling his skin.

The faint glow ...

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