Gio arrived first.
He picked a table against the wall where he could see the entrance. The café sat on a quieter stretch of the business district. Tables were spaced to suggest privacy, not guarantee it.
He ordered black coffee. No sugar. Then he waited.
The message that called him had been short: "We should talk."
It came from a number he recognized but hadn't answered in months. Gio considered ignoring it. Instead, he suggested a public place and a time during business hours.
The door opened five minutes past the agreed time.
His half-brother walked in easy, like he owned the place. He removed his gloves while scanning the room. Then he spotted Gio and approached. No smile. No greeting.
He did not embrace him.
"You've been difficult to reach."
Gio didn't respond to that. "You asked to talk."
His half-brother put his gloves on the table and signaled the barista. Then he turned back. They looked alike but not identical. Same jaw shape. The rest from different mothers.
