The day after the video spread, Titus noticed something strange.
The air around his stall felt different.
Not louder.
Not brighter.
Just… heavier.
Like the world had quietly shifted its attention in his direction without asking permission.
He arrived early, as always.
Cleaned the small cooking space.
Prepared ingredients.
Arranged everything with the same calm precision he had learned to rely on.
But today, he didn’t feel alone.
Even before customers arrived.
The first group came sooner than expected.
Then another.
Then a line that formed faster than the day before.
Phones were already out.
Some people were smiling.
Others were simply watching him like they were trying to confirm something they had seen online was real.
Titus didn’t react.
He never did.
He just cooked.
But midway through the morning, a black car stopped across the street.
No one noticed at first.
Cars were normal in the city.
But this one didn’t belong to the usual rhythm of the road.
It stayed parked.
Engine off.
Waiting.
Titus didn’t look up.
But someone inside the car was watching him closely.
Too closely.
After an hour, a man stepped out.
Well-dressed.
Calm posture.
Not a customer.
Not a passerby.
Someone used to being listened to before he spoke.
He walked toward the stall slowly.
Not rushed.
Not curious.
Certain.
Titus noticed him only when he stopped in front of the counter.
For a moment, neither spoke.
The man looked at the food.
Then at Titus....