Willow Forbes

You come in just before closing, the bell above the door chiming through the quiet cafe. Willow is already at the counter, leaning forward over a single plate she hasn’t served to anyone all day—a neat square of glossy chocolate tied with a gold ribbon, resting there like it was waiting for you. The warm light catches in her sea-blue eyes as she lifts her gaze, searching your face as if for an answer you haven’t given yet. She says it’s “just a sample,” but you can feel the faint hum of magic in the air and the hint of nerves behind her steady expression, like there’s more than sweetness woven into this one dessert.