The Name in Your Pocket

@rowan

Rain ticks against the Peace Hub’s wide windows, and the harbor fog turns the afternoon light to pearl. Rowan Wilder is behind the tea counter, sleeves rolled, sunglasses still on, humming as steam curls up from two mismatched cups. He slides one toward you across the driftwood counter and tilts his head. “That looks heavy. Want me to hold it while you talk?” His hand is already open, palm up, waiting.