Chapter 22 CHAPTER 22
Cindy wiped her hands on her apron, her muscles aching pleasantly after a long day’s work.
The café had gone quiet.
The bell over the door jingled softly as the last customer stepped out into the cooling evening, leaving behind the faint scent of roasted beans, soap, and fried dough.
It had been her first day behind the stove, and though she’d tried to hide it, she’d been nervous from the moment Pauline told her to take over the kitchen. She didn’t want to disappoint her - but even more than that, she didn’t want to let Isabel down. The girl had vouched for her, insisting to her boss that Cindy could handle the job.
Her first order had made her hands tremble. She’d nearly dropped a ladle when the ticket came through. But as the day went on and more customers sent compliments back to the kitchen, something inside her began to steady. By the third plate, she was no longer just cooking - she was feeling. Measuring by instinct, tasting with heart, seasoning with a confidence she hadn’t felt in a long time.
It was exhausting, yes, but deeply fulfilling. Every appreciative comment that drifted through the window - Tell the cook it’s perfect, whoever made this, she’s talented - filled her chest with a quiet warmth. These were people who enjoyed her food, not because they had to, but because they wanted to. No harsh criticisms. No impossible standards. Just satisfaction and gratitude.
Now, as she watched the last customer step into the fading light, Cindy smiled to herself. Maybe this was what peace felt like - even if it was fleeting.
She untied her apron and turned toward the dining area. The soft clinking of dishes came from the counter, where Pauline was arranging receipts. Alina, the other waitress, was stacking glasses, humming tunelessly to herself. Moments later, the door creaked open again, and Isabel burst in, her school bag slung over one shoulder, her bright face lit with excitement.
“Hey! How did my favorite chef survive her first day?” she called out, dropping her bag on a chair.
Cindy laughed quietly, brushing her hands on a towel. “Barely. I think my arms are about to fall off.”
Pauline chuckled from behind the counter. “You did better than most people on their first day. I think you’ve just stolen my chef’s job, sweetheart.”
Isabel’s eyes widened with pride. “I told you she was amazing!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Cindy teased. “You just didn’t tell me how much standing this job involved.”
Pauline stepped away from the counter, wiping her hands on her apron. “You were wonderful, Cindy. Honestly. Everyone who ate today complimented your food. The soup, the fries, the pies - everything. You’ve got a gift.”
Cindy’s smile softened. “Thank you, Pauline. That means a lot.”
“It’s true,” Alina added as she set a glass down. “Even Mr. Thomas - and that man never likes anything - said the food was ‘decent,’ which, from him, is like a five-star review.”
They all laughed, the sound filling the little café like the echo of home.
Pauline leaned against the counter. “You know what? Before we close up, let’s have something to eat. We deserve it. It’s not every day we welcome a miracle worker into the kitchen.”
“Are you sure?” Cindy asked.
“Positive. We’ve got leftover fries and chicken, and I’ve been saving a few soft drinks.” Pauline winked. “It’s a celebration.”
Minutes later, the four of them were gathered around one of the corner tables, sharing warm fries, small sandwiches, and laughter. The café lights were dimmed to a cozy amber glow, and the smell of food lingered sweetly in the air.
“So,” Isabel began between mouthfuls, “did anything exciting happen today? Any disasters I should know about?”
Pauline’s grin turned mischievous. “Actually, something did happen. You know our regulars? The ones who come every week - those well-dressed rich men?”
Isabel’s eyes widened. “Yes. What about them?”
“They came today.” Pauline glanced at Cindy, her smile deepening. “And this one here served them. The leader said he is curious about her. That he’ll be back.”
Isabel almost choked on her drink. “What? No way! Those men don’t even look at the wait staff, let alone talk to them!”
Pauline laughed. “That’s what I said. But they did.”
The table fell quiet for a beat before Isabel’s grin returned, sly and playful. She elbowed Cindy. “Oh, so that’s what this is? The mysterious guy’s already got a crush on you, huh?”
Cindy rolled her eyes. “Who teaches you these things? Why do you always end up asking me such nonsense? You’re too young for this.”
“I’m not that young,” Isabel protested. “And I know a crush when I see one.”
Cindy gave her a look, shaking her head. “Eat your fries before you start imagining fairy tales.”
Isabel laughed and turned to Pauline. “What do you think? Does he like her?”
Pauline’s shoulders lifted in a playful shrug. “Maybe. If he does, she’s set for life. Those men don’t look like your average café regulars. You can tell just by the way they dress - expensive suits, spotless shoes, and the kind of watches that cost more than my café.”
Cindy frowned slightly. “Then why would they come here if they are that rich? This café doesn’t necessarily scream extravagant.”
Pauline leaned forward on her elbows. “Because their boss comes to visit a priestess nearby. Her office is just down the street. They usually stop here to eat while waiting for him. They’ve been coming for a while now. Said they liked my food and wanted privacy, so I gave them that back room. Now they call ahead every week to reserve it.”
Cindy nodded slowly, piecing the details together. A priestess… the Moon Goddess… Lisa stirred faintly inside her mind, but stayed silent.
Their laughter and conversation continued for a while longer, the tone light and warm. But even as she smiled and laughed with them, Cindy couldn’t help but feel the faint echo of curiosity tugging at her chest - about those men, about what Lisa had felt earlier in the day, about why their presence had felt so familiar.
Later, when the café was cleaned and closed, Cindy and Isabel walked home together under the pale glow of the streetlights. The city had quieted; only the hum of distant cars and the soft chatter from far-off windows filled the air.
“So,” Isabel said after a while, glancing sideways at Cindy, “what was that all about - that guy saying he’s curious about you? Do you like him?”
Cindy hesitated. She’d been expecting the question. “It’s nothing like that. Those men…” she said slowly, “they’re not normal.”
Isabel frowned. “Not normal? Like… how?”
“They’re like me,” Cindy said. Her voice was calm, almost resigned. “Lisa says they’re Lycans. She could feel their wolves.”
Isabel stopped in her tracks, her expression flickering between fascination and worry. “Are they dangerous?”
Cindy shook her head. “Lisa doesn’t think so. They didn’t mean any harm. They were just… curious.”
Isabel exhaled, relieved but still uneasy. “So, if they come again, will you tell them who you are?”
Cindy glanced up at the sky, where the moon hung half-hidden behind drifting clouds. “I don’t know,” she murmured. “Maybe. I’d love to know where I came from. I was adopted, remember? Maybe they could tell me something.”
Isabel nodded, her teasing replaced with quiet empathy. “Yeah. Maybe they could.”
They walked on, side by side, their footsteps light on the pavement.
After a while, Cindy whispered inwardly, do you think they know me, Lisa?
Lisa’s voice answered softly, distant as wind through leaves. I don’t know. We just have to wait and see. But we must be careful.
Cindy’s heart fluttered faintly - not with fear, but with something that felt like hope.