The café felt heavier when Jace returned the next morning. Not darker, not colder—just heavier, like the air understood something had shifted. Customers whispered less. Chairs scraped more quietly. Even the neon sign outside flickered with a slower pulse.
Faye stood behind the counter, polishing glasses that were already spotless. When she looked up, her eyes widened with something between relief and guilt."You came back."
"Yeah," Jace said, tying his apron. "Couldn't sleep."
"You shouldn't have been able to," she murmured.
He paused. "That supposed to reassure me?"
But Faye didn't answer. She simply nodded toward the back, where Ren was counting invoices with the precision of someone resisting panic. He didn't look up until Jace approached.
"Rough night?" Ren asked.
"I'm guessing you already know what happened."
Ren's jaw tightened. "I felt it. Like a… pulse in the menu. Fate bending too fast." He set down his pen. "You need to be careful. The café listens to you more than it should."
"Is that bad?"
"It's dangerous," Faye said from the doorway. "This place isn't meant to bond with a barista. Not like this."
Jace leaned against the counter. "Then why did it?"
Ren sighed. "Because you walked in wanting nothing. And the café hates people who want nothing—it tries to give you purpose. Whether you asked or not."
Jace frowned. "It gave me a vision."
"You saw one of their futures?"
"More like… I saw everything standing between them and it. Their heartbreak, their fear, their decisions. And it nearly broke me."
Faye set a drink down—Americano, no cream, no sugar."For truth," she said.
Jace blinked. "Who's it for?"
"You." Her voice softened. "Before the café gives you another vision, you should know the truth about why it chose you."
But before she could continue, the bell above the door chimed.
A boy—maybe seventeen—stood on the threshold, soaked in rain that hadn't been forecasted. His hands trembled as he stepped inside.
Faye stiffened. Ren muttered a curse.
"What?" Jace whispered.
"That," Faye said, "is a Seeker."
Jace had never heard the word used like that before. "Meaning…?"
"They don't come for drinks," Ren said. "They come because fate is about to fracture around them."
The boy staggered toward the counter."H-help," he whispered. "I didn't know where else to go."
Jace stepped forward automatically, catching his arm. The boy's eyes met his—
—and Jace felt it.
A cracking. A tearing. Like the future had too many threads wrapped around this kid, all snapping at once.
Faye inhaled sharply."Jace. Don't look into him."
But it was too late. The vision hit him like a collision.
He saw the boy standing on a bridge.He saw an empty bedroom.He saw a phone ringing and ringing.He saw a choice that would splinter three lives and rebuild none.
Jace tore himself out of the vision with a gasp.
The boy collapsed into his chest.
Ren whispered, "This is what we feared."
But Faye was staring at Jace with something new—fear, yes… but also awe."You didn't just see his fate," she breathed."You held it."