They talked and cleaned, and after the tables were wiped and the floor was mopped, Shirley and her mother started on the windows. And even when the shop was spotless, there was so much more that Lan Tran felt she needed to hear.

Shizuka was reviewing video from morning lessons when Astrid tapped on her door.

“Miss Satomi? You have a visitor.”

As Shizuka walked to the living room, the visitor saw her, stood up immediately, and bowed.

“Shizuka,” Lan said. “I should not have assumed so much about you.”

“You wouldn’t have needed to assume if you’d just paid attention.”

Lan nodded.

“You are right. Would it be possible to forgive me?”

“Would it be possible to hear an apology?”

“I apologize!” Lan bowed again, this time at a ninety-degree angle.

The Queen of Hell folded her arms. Lan had ignored her, trivialized her music, misread her intentions, even sent Shirley to kidnap Katrina.

“So, where shall we go?” Lan asked.

“Go?”

“I mean, would you like to go for a drive? I can drive!”

How could she be so exasperating, yet so cute?

“Drive? Where?”

“Anywhere you like! I mean, if you want to go anywhere. Would you like lunch? I can buy lunch. If you don’t mind going. With me, I mean.”

She really had missed her, hadn’t she?

“Oh, shut up,” Shizuka finally said, barely able to contain her laugh.

Li’s Sandwiches had started in Westminster, in Orange County’s Little Saigon, but had spread northward to the San Gabriel Valley. Its brightly lit stores sold not only Vietnamese banh mi, but also Euro-style sandwiches, fresh baked baguettes, and croissants.

Shizuka told Lan what she wanted, found a table, and waited while Lan ordered and paid. Eventually, Lan came to the table with their sandwiches and drinks.

“Eat it while the bread is warm,” Shizuka advised.

Lan nodded, then took a bite. She tasted onion and cilantro and peppers. There was sliced pork and pickled radish and carrots and liver pâté … The bread was crunchy and crumbly on the outside, yet chewy, warm, and almost sweet.

“What is this?” Lan asked.

“A sandwich. How’s the coffee?”

Lan sipped the coffee. She paused. Of course she knew what coffee was. But she had never tasted Vietnamese drip coffee with condensed milk.

Lan looked about her at the happy customers. They seemed so different from the ones who were now coming to Starrgate. Why was this different from the donuts at the shop? And why did sipping a sweet Vietnamese coffee—why did that make her heart skip?

A sandwich that is more than a sandwich. Coffee that is more than coffee.

Shizuka was telling her something important, wasn’t she?

Lan recalled their trip to Kim Ky. Lan had ordered for Shizuka, poked fun at her with the waitress, so knowingly explained why she should get the soup noodles.

Lan had been so sure of herself.