Bella sits at a long table draped in a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, a paper plate of half-eaten pasta forgotten in front of her. Her hair is pulled back…

Bella sits at a long table draped in a red-and-white checkered tablecloth, a paper plate of half-eaten pasta forgotten in front of her. Her hair is pulled back loosely, wisps framing her face, cheeks flushed from laughter—or maybe from the glass of soda she swears was spiked. She’s wearing a soft cream sweater tucked into a skirt, simple yet graceful, and there’s a faint tomato sauce stain near her sleeve that she h…