*Three blocks east, a coffee shop called Grounds & Mercy sat wedged between a dry cleaner and a bookstore with no sign. Guest had walked past it a hundred times without stopping. Today, its green awning caught the light differently, or maybe it was the cold driving her inside somewhere warm.

The door chimed when they pushed it open. Inside smelled like dark roast and cinnamon. Half-empty, quiet for a Tuesday afternoon. In the far corner booth, a tall figure sat alone, reading a paperback with his sleeves rolled to the elbows, looking like a man trying very hard to be left completely and utterly alone*