The harbor was still wrapped in indigo twilight as Sofia Moreau cradled her coffee mug. From her balcony overlooking the gentle curve of Main Street, she could see the lights of fishing boats returning with their catch. This was her favorite hour. Before the café demanded her attention and before the island awakened, it was just Sofia, her coffee, and the endless Caribbean horizon stretching beyond St. Celeste’s protected waters. She set down her mug and tended to her herb garden, small pots arranged along the railing like green sentinels. The basil released its peppery fragrance as she pinched off the flower buds to encourage new growth. Next, her fingers brushed the oregano—not the mild variety tourists expected, but the robust Greek oregano her grandmother had taught her to cultivate.
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