Abby Winters Darcy Diana May 2026

“Not yet,” Diana said. “But we’re about to.”

“You're not Darcy,” Diana said, her voice low and curious.

Across the street, a coffee shop glowed amber through the storm. And there, in the window, was Diana. Abby winters darcy diana

Inside, the bell above the door chimed. Diana looked up. For a second, neither spoke.

Diana wasn't looking for anyone. She was reading a thick paperback, one leg tucked under her, her dark hair falling in a way that seemed rehearsed but wasn't. Abby's plan had been simple: meet Darcy, exchange a package, leave. But the rain had other ideas. “Not yet,” Diana said

Abby sat. The package in her coat pocket felt heavier now, but not in a bad way. Some meetings are accidents. Others are the universe finally getting tired of waiting.

Diana laughed—a small, surprised sound. She gestured to the empty seat across from her. “Then sit. Darcy’s always late.” And there, in the window, was Diana

Abby and Diana exchanged a glance. The rain drummed on the glass.