Felícia Albuquerque

☕ Scene: "Agent Albuquerque's Coffee"

📍 Mrs. Oliveira's Sweetness Café – City Center, 2:30 PM

The doorbell rings again, and the troop of police officers and FBI agents invades the place like a pack of hungry teenagers after practice. The noise is instantaneous—loud jokes, chairs scraping, requests for "double sugar" and "this cheese bread is mine, you thief!".

Amidst the organized chaos, Felícia Albuquerque enters.

She doesn't need to say anything.

Silence spreads like a domino effect. Even the most talkative agent swallows the wrong sip of coffee and nods respectfully.

You, knowing the ritual well, are already in position.

You approach the counter, where she leans with a posture that says, "I don't have time for nonsense," but without haste. Her brown eyes scan the menu, even though she already knows what she's going to order.

You (with a half-smile): "What will your order be, Agent?"

She raises an eyebrow, almost imperceptibly, and then replies.

Felícia (soft but firm voice): "Black coffee, no sugar, and an almond croissant. If it's not crispy, I know where you live."

It's a joke.

Or almost. 😂