Chapter 2

In a small, old coffee shop, Sandra Mariano sat quietly, her chin resting on her hand. Her gaze wandered idly as she waited for her order, a stack of pancakes and a cup of coffee. She was the only customer there.

It was easy to see why the place rarely drew a crowd anymore. It's worn-out charm had long been overshadowed by the sleek and modern restaurants that surrounded it. Inside, there were only three tables, plus a long counter along each wall lined with four wooden stools. The wooden walls had lost most of their varnish. The surface was dulled and weathered with time.

A small chalkboard hung on one side, a colorful quote scrawled across it in different shades of chalk and beside it was a faded imitation of Van Gogh’s Sunflowers.

The shop was run by only two people, an elderly man, well into his sixties, who sat at the cash register, and a plump, cheerful waitress in a pink uniform, who Sandra guessed to be around forty-five to fifty.

A few moments later, the waitress approached with her order in hand. “Thank you for waiting, Ma’am!” she said cheerfully.

Sandra glanced at the woman’s nametag. “Thanks, Vicky!” she replied with a smile.

She turned her eyes toward the street outside the coffee shop, sipping her coffee now and then. Through the glass window, she watched the steady flow of people passing by. Most looked like office workers, some walking so fast they were almost running, others speaking into their phones, and a few juggling a hotdog sandwich in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Everyone seemed busy. Everyone seemed in a hurry.

Her best friend was right. New York was nothing like the quiet little city she came from. From the towering skyscrapers to the massive billboards, from the crowded sidewalks to the streets crammed with speeding cars, everything in this city seemed alive, vibrant, and loud. Right now, this tiny coffee shop felt like the quietest place in all of New York.

Then something caught her attention, a massive TV screen mounted on a tall building across the street. Just as a Nike commercial ended, the screen shifted to a live interview with Jessica Lopez.

Jessica Lopez was a household name. She’s a wildly popular author who, at just twenty-four, had become one of the wealthiest writers in the industry. Every book she released was a bestseller, and three of her novels had already been adapted into films, each one a box office hit.

She was a frequent guest on talk shows and had graced the covers of numerous fashion magazines, celebrated not just for her literary talent but also for her beauty and impeccable style. Among male admirers, she was one of the most desired and admired women in the celebrity world.

Sandra’s eyes stayed locked on the massive screen, watching intently… until her attention was suddenly drawn to someone standing right in front of her. It was the same face she had just seen on the giant screen. The person was dressed in a plain T-shirt, jeans, rubber shoes, a cap, and oversized sunglasses.

"Why on earth did you ask me to come to a place like this?" the woman muttered under her breath, irritation lacing her tone as she repeatedly tugged the brim of her cap lower. Then, a smirk tugged at her lips. "But at least you finally decided to visit me." Her annoyance quickly resurfaced. “You were unreachable for almost two months. No calls, no messages, nothing. And now, out of the blue, you call me to say you’re in New York?" She picked up the fork and took a bite of the untouched pancakes in front of her.

"Find me a place to stay here," Sandra said casually.

Jessica choked, nearly spitting out her food. "What? Why? What happened now? Don’t tell me you’re having trouble again with your old place?"

Jessica waited for an answer, but Sandra only met her with a blank stare. Deep down, Jessica felt a spark of happiness. If she could, she would invite her to stay at her house in a heartbeat but she knew that was impossible. Sandra would never live with her.

Meanwhile, Sandra’s gaze swept over her from head to toe, a quiet chuckle escaping at her obvious attempt to go incognito. "Are you really that famous now?"

"Oh yes, I’m ridiculously famous! Apparently, you’re the only one who doesn’t know it!" Jessica replied with mock arrogance before taking a sip of the last of her friend’s coffee.

Sandra had been born into wealth and the only child of a couple who owned a thriving business. But she was orphaned at the tender age of six when a tragic incident claimed her parents’ lives. The business and fortune they had intended to leave her vanished almost instantly, stolen by trusted employees who betrayed them.

Too young to understand the weight of what had happened, she hadn’t been able to protect their assets. All that remained was the family home, where she would later live with Jessica and Jessica’s mother, Marta.

Marta had been working for Sandra’s family since Sandra was an infant. When tragedy struck and Sandra was left orphaned, not a single relative stepped forward to take her in. Only Marta remained by her side.

A single mother who never remarried, Marta devoted all her time and attention to raising both Sandra and her own daughter, Jessica. She worked tirelessly to provide for them, treating Sandra as if she were her own flesh and blood.

Sandra and Jessica grew up inseparable, best friends who were more like real sisters. They were the same age, they were classmates from primary school all the way through high school. It was only in college that their paths diverged. Jessica went on to earn a degree in Literature, while Sandra chose not to pursue further studies after graduating from high school.

"And you? When are you ever going to change your look? Sandra, you might just be the only woman in New York who refuses to wear lipstick!"

Jessica gave her a scrutinizing look from head to toe. As always, Sandra wore her usual simple attire…a plain white T-shirt, denim jeans, a jacket, and worn-out sneakers.

Her eyes traveled to Sandra’s face. Glasses, slightly messy short hair, pale complexion, and not a single trace of makeup. Her friend was beautiful, but she was hardly noticeable, mostly because she had no interest in fixing herself up. She had given her the same advice countless times, but she never listened. She often bought her elegant, expensive clothes and high-quality cosmetics, but all of them ended up in a pile, untouched.

"Did you even shower before leaving the hotel?" she teased.

Sandra stood without answering, holding out her right hand in front of Jessica’s face.

"Keys."

With no choice, Jessica obeyed. Once she handed over the car keys, Sandra walked toward the exit without waiting for her.

"Hey! Take it easy when you drive. I know you! Wait for me!"

Jessica was about to get up when the waitress approached, asking for an autograph. The famous young woman signed quickly before rushing outside to catch up with her friend, leaving behind a disappointed fan who's still hoping to take a picture with her.