Chapter 17. Empty

Camila tapped her fingernail against the smooth surface of her espresso cup, the rhythmic click echoing softly in the dimly lit café. The aroma of freshly ground coffee beans mingled with the subtle scent of pastries, a comforting backdrop to her thoughts. Across from her, a newspaper lay abandoned, its headlines blurred by the curling steam rising from her coffee. Her gaze drifted past it, distant and introspective, as though she were peering into a world beyond the café walls, where worries and regrets had no dominion.

Her phone buzzed insistently against the tabletop, jolting her from her reverie. The vibration felt almost aggressive in the quiet space, pulling her back into the present.

“Camila Martinez,” she answered, her voice smooth and composed, a practiced cadence of control honed over years of steering both boardrooms and personal crises.

“Did you h