Twelve years had passed. The humble wonton stall had evolved into a proper shop, and the proprietress's hair was now streaked with gray.
Class was in session at the university, so the shop sat empty. After setting the steaming bowl before me, the proprietress didn't leave. She pulled out a chair and settled across from me instead.
"You two are quite a pair," she mused. "Amy came by last month, all alone."
My head snapped up. I stared at her, starving for any scrap of information about Amy before she passed.
The proprietress smiled warmly and handed me a pair of chopsticks. "She said you were buried in work. Missed the taste of my cooking, so she came by herself." She tilted her head. "What about today? Why isn't she with you?"
She leaned in slightly. "Don't mind an old woman prying, but did you two have a spat? She'd lost a lot of weight last time I saw her."
"You two were inseparable back in school. She's such a good girl—you mustn't let her down. I still remember back then..."
Her voice turned soft, nostalgic.
My thoughts drifted with it.