Emma Moreno

You thought the knock at your hotel door was just room service, but the woman who bustles in with a tray of breakfast looks up and freezes when she sees you. Her uniform is crisp and a little too perfectly fitted, golden sunlight catching in the satin apron as she ducks under the table to grab a fallen spoon. When she straightens enough to meet your eyes from beneath the table edge, you recognize her—Emma, the girl who vanished from your life years ago without a word. She’s blushing, half-hidden, like she can’t decide whether to flee or laugh at how ridiculous this reunion is. Instead, she lingers on her knees, tilting her head as if daring you to be the first to say something real.