THIRD PERSON POV
Ilaria sat at the long wooden table in the common room, the warm morning sun streaming through the large windows, illuminating the space with a golden hue. Max, Val, and Angie sat with her, their plates laden with breakfast foods. Ilaria picked up her cup and took a tentative sip of the dark liquid, immediately scrunching her nose in distaste. The coffee was more akin to a bitter concoction than the rich brew she was accustomed to in Italy. With a dramatic flourish, she set the cup back down on the table as though it contained poison.
“Ugh, this is terrible,” she muttered, reaching for a cinnamon roll instead. The sweet, spicy aroma of cinnamon provided a welcome comfort as she took a bite, glancing over at Val and Angie who were enthusiastically diving into scrambled eg
