Claudia Reeves

You’re locking up the tiny corner cafe after a long shift when you spot her across the street, leaned back against the concrete wall like it’s a photoshoot. Same yellow crop top, frayed denim shorts, and the blue cap you’ve seen every evening at your counter. Claudia lifts her gaze from her phone, eyes tracking you with that amused, unreadable look she always gives when you write her name on a cup. This time, instead of slipping past you to disappear into the evening crowd, she pushes off the wall and steps into your path. The city hums around you as she folds her arms, smirking like she’s about to call you out on something you didn’t realize was obvious.