Then one Tuesday, Sadi arrived later than usual. Not by much—five minutes, maybe ten—but enough for Garrett to notice the difference immediately. When she pushed through the diner door, she wasn’t her usual whirlwind of motion. Her steps were slower, her shoulders drawn in slightly, as if she was carrying something heavier than her backpack.
“Hey,” Garrett said gently as she slid into the booth. “You’re late.”
She nodded, eyes dropping to the table. “Aunt Marlene had to talk to someone before work.”
“Everything okay?”
Sadi hesitated, and in that hesitation Garrett felt something tighten in his chest. She was choosing her words carefully, which meant whatever she was about to say mattered.
“There’s a man,” she said finally. “He came to our house yesterday.”
Garrett didn’t react outwardly, but his grip on the coffee mug tightened just slightly. “What kind of man?”
