One man thanked her.
Then another.
Then another.
She noticed something strange.
They were not there to intimidate the diner.
They were there because Hassan was there.
The old man sat in his booth, apparently unaffected.
Charlie finally approached.
Mr. Holmes?
Hassan.
Hassan.
She sat opposite him.
Why did they come?
He looked through the window.
Because once upon a time, I came for them.
Charlie waited.
He continued.
People remember who stood beside them when things were difficult.
What did you do?
Hassan smiled.
Too much.
He looked down at his hands.
Too many things I regret. Too many things I'm proud of. That's the problem with getting old.
Charlie sat quietly.
Hassan looked toward her.
You protected me tonight.
I couldn't just watch.
Most people do.
Charlie lowered her eyes.
I know.
Hassan studied her.
Who are you protecting?
Charlie looked up sharply.
What?
You're twenty-four. You're working past midnight. You look exhausted. You keep checking your phone every fifteen minutes.
Charlie stared at him.
Hassan smiled.
I've been observant for seventy-six years.
Charlie hesitated.
My sister.
What about her?
She's sick.
Hassan nodded.
Parents?
Dead.
Father?
Alive somewhere. Doesn't matter.
Hassan didn't press.
Charlie looked toward the window.
What happens now?
Nothing.
Nothing?
The boys leave. You close the diner. I finish my coffee.
And that's it?
Hassan smiled.
That's it.
But Charlie didn't believe him.
At 1:43 a.m., Marcus approached their booth.
Hassan.
The old man looked up.
Problem?
One.
Marcus placed a folded piece of paper on the table.
Bradley's father called.
Charlie looked between them.
Hassan unfolded the paper.
His expression became serious.
What did he say?
He wants to meet.
Hassan sighed.
Tomorrow.
Marcus nodded.
Then his eyes moved to Charlie.
There's another problem.
What?
Marcus hesitated.
Somebody photographed the parking lot.
Charlie frowned.
Who?
We don't know.
Hassan folded the paper.
Then find out.
Marcus nodded.
Charlie suddenly felt the atmosphere change.
This was no longer about four drunk young men.
Something larger had begun.
---
At 2:31 a.m., Charlie finally left the diner.
The motorcycles were still outside.
She walked toward her battered sedan.
Marcus approached.
You shouldn't drive alone.
Charlie frowned.
I'm fine.
Hassan's voice came from behind him.
Let him walk you.
Charlie looked at the old man.
I've survived worse.
I know.
That answer stopped her.
Hassan smiled.
That's why I said let him.
Charlie accepted.
Marcus walked beside her.
At the car, he said, "You have somewhere safe to go?"
My apartment.
Good.
Charlie drove home.
The moment she entered, she knew something was wrong.
Emily was sitting on the couch.
Her face was pale.
Her inhaler was in her hand.
Charlie?
Charlie dropped her purse.
What happened?
I couldn't breathe.
Fear shot through Charlie.
How bad?
Better now.
Charlie knelt beside her.
Why didn't you call me?
I did.
Charlie looked at her phone.
Seven missed calls.
She had left it on silent.
I'm sorry.
Emily smiled weakly.
You were working.
Charlie hugged her.
The next morning, they went to the clinic.
The doctor examined Emily.
We need to change her medication.
Charlie swallowed.
How much?
The doctor named the amount.
Charlie felt her stomach sink.
It was more than she had in the bank.
She nodded anyway.
I'll figure it out.
Outside, Charlie sat in the parking lot.
She stared at the receipt.
A motorcycle stopped beside her.
Hassan removed his helmet.
Bad news?
Charlie wiped her eyes.
Nothing I can't handle.
He looked at her.
You said that last night.
I meant it.
Hassan smiled.
That's what strong people say right before they collapse.
Charlie looked away.
Hassan didn't ask how much.
He simply handed her an envelope.
She refused it.
No.
Take it.
I can't.
It's not charity.
What is it?
A debt.
Charlie frowned.
For what?
For coffee.
She stared at him.
Coffee?
Hassan nodded.
You gave me coffee when I needed someone to treat me like a human being.
Charlie pushed the envelope back.
I can't accept money.
Then don't.
He left it on the seat.
You can accept help.
Then he rode away.