There was a little coffee shop on the corner of Meadowlark and Rosewell, just like Sekani said. We arrived before four and sat where he could see everyone coming and going. I looked around. “I know this place.” Was it because I’d walked up and down this street for so long, or was it something else? I felt like it was something else. I knew this shop—the smell of coffee, the sweet scent of the bakery. I’d been here a lot. “It’s not far from campus. You probably spent a lot of time here.” Sekani said. I nodded but didn’t…
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