Chapter 12 - ECHOES OF THE PAST
As the restaurant slowly wound down and the last satisfied patrons trickled out into the cool Chicago night, the staff began dimming the lights and cleaning down the stainless-steel counters.
Eleanor, Julian, and Marcus remained seated at Table 1, talking quietly over cups of black coffee.
Shiomara untied her chef’s apron, hung it neatly on the back of the service door, and walked over to join them, pulling out a chair and sitting down with a soft sigh of happy exhaustion.
“How did it feel tonight?” Eleanor asked softly, her gaze steady and affectionate.
“It felt... overwhelming,” Shiomara admitted, looking around the breathtaking dining room before her eyes drifted to the glass display case near the entrance, where her old, restored food cart sat illuminated under warm spotlights. “For so many years, I thought my life was just about surviving day-to-day. I never imagined a night like this was even possible.”
“Survival was just the first chapter, Shiomara,” Marcus said, leaning back in his chair with a gentle smile. “Now, it’s time to start living.”
“And speaking of living,” Julian added, pulling a slim, leather-bound itinerary booklet from his suit pocket and sliding it across the table toward her. “We noticed you haven't taken a single vacation in... well, probably ever.”
Shiomara picked up the booklet, raising an eyebrow as she flipped open the cover. First-class flights to the Amalfi Coast, private villa reservations, and a fully guided cultural tour of southern Europe.
May you like
“What is this?” she asked, her voice dropping a fraction of an octave.
“It’s a family trip,” Eleanor stated simply, leaving no room for argument. “The four of us. Next Tuesday. No excuses, Shiomara. You’ve spent your whole life taking care of strangers on the street. It’s time to let us take care of you.”
