It was raining again—the kind of soft, steady rain that made the city sound like it was breathing. Minh stood by the library door, watching people hurry past with their umbrellas like colorful little sails. He didn’t mind the rain. What he minded was forgetting his own umbrella on the bus. He checked his phone. The screen glowed: “Rain expected all evening.” He sighed. Maybe he would wait a bit longer, read another chapter, pretend the world outside wasn’t soaked and gray. That was when she walked in—carrying an umbrella that looked far too bright for such a day. Yellow. Like a piece of sunlight had refused to leave. She…

The café was still half asleep when Anna arrived. The chairs were stacked against the wall, and the faint aroma of roasted beans filled the quiet air. She loved this hour before the rush, before the noise, when everything still belonged to stillness. Mr. Tuan, the old owner, nodded at her from behind the counter. “You’re early again,” he said with a smile. His hands moved slowly but surely, like someone who had spent his life measuring out happiness in teaspoons of sugar and coffee grounds. Anna sat by the window. Outside, the first bus of the day sighed to a stop, letting out a handful of drowsy passengers. A…