A young woman in a black apron leaned toward the speaker box.

“Welcome to Bean and Leaf, what can I start for you today?” she said through the static.

“A large hazelnut latte, whole milk and extra syrup, please,” I said.

It was exactly what my mother always ordered, the drink she’d asked for every Saturday morning since I was fourteen.

“Anything else for you this afternoon?” the barista said.

“No,” I said.

“Only the latte.”