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“What can I get you?” their waitress asked as she approached, holding her notepad and pen at the ready.

“Pancakes and bacon for me. Coffee as well,” Quinn said.

“Uh… Yeah. That.” Abby pointed to Quinn.

“So, pancakes, bacon, and coffee?”

“Yes,” she confirmed.

“I’ll have that coffee right out,” the woman replied and walked off.

“Anyway, they ran away,” Abby continued.

“What about my family? Or Frances’s, I guess?”

“They’d all died. She was basically alone. She was a few years older than Agnes, and her uncle wanted to marry her off, too, so she ran. She lived on her own in the woods and met Agnes that way. I wrote their meeting. You can read it when we get home, if you want. Well, you should because it’s how you and I began.”

“No, you and I began when you walked into my shop. Or, technically, last night, when we kissed for the first time.”

“You know what I mean…”

“I do. But I still think it’s important to treat us as a separate couple, Abs.”

“You’re right,” she said with a nod. “And I didn’t get much from them. It’s like, there were a few parts that I could see, but huge chunks in the middle and at the end are still missing. It’s definitely not enough to write a whole book about them, but they loved each other enough to run away together and live completely alone for however long they had before they died.”

“How did they create all of this?” Quinn asked.

Their waitress arrived with a coffee carafe and two mugs before Abby could answer. Then, without saying anything, the woman walked away again.

“Agnes felt something when they were trying to get away. It was like wind knocked her over or something.”

“And?” Quinn began doctoring her coffee.

“And you know how in movies or books, there’s always this one moment that creates some sort of ripple effect?”

“I guess so.”

“What if Frances knocking Agnes’s brother out with a two-by-four did that? They’d only just met, but Frances loved her from the beginning. Maybe hitting him and taking Agnes away from it all was what started this whole chain of events.”

“You really think that?”

“I don’t know anything else. Later, that brother shows back up, and before they have to run again, Frances stabs him to keep him from taking Agnes back.”

“I killed someone?”

“No, he was fine. Or, at least, I assume he was, but she hurt him in order to give them time to get away. When you walked in with coffee this morning, I’d just written that part. I suppose that could’ve been the moment, too. I don’t know.”

“What happened next?”

“I don’t know. You walked in, but I didn’t see anything after they rode off again. It felt like they were safe – like, really safe, for good – but I didn’t see anything else.”

“And you’re sure they were the first?” Quinn asked and took a sip of her coffee.

“It feels like that way, yes. And they also don’t reference feeling like there was anyone before them. You know what, though?” She smiled at Quinn.

“What?”

“Agnes favored honeysuckle.”