The restaurant hummed with the sound of conversation, clinking glasses, and the low whir of ceiling fans struggling against the Texas summer heat. Outside, the air shimmered at eighty-six degrees. Inside, it was cooler but still heavy — the kind of warmth that makes even patience feel sticky.
At a corner table, Melanie Dudley tried to settle her three-month-old son in her arms. It had been a long morning — diaper changes, a short drive, then waiting for a table with her husband and parents. When the baby began fussing, she didn’t hesitate. She’d nursed him in cars, in airports, on park benches. This was no different.