Page 2

EVE

The last customer had trickled out an hour ago, leaving behind a mess of crumbs, sticky tables, and ketchup-streaked plates.

I grabbed a damp rag and started wiping down the counter.

Exhaustion clung to me like a second skin.

The scent of disinfectant mixed with fryer grease, and I wrinkled my nose.

I just wanted to go home, take a shower, and collapse into bed.

The thought settled like a stone in my chest. Heavy. Unremarkable.

Louise stepped into the dining car, her presence filling the space with quiet authority. She clapped her hands, all warmth and command.

“Good job tonight, everyone. See you tomorrow.” Turning to me, her smile softened. “Eve? Sleep in for once, will you? I’ve got things handled in the morning.”

I nodded quickly, brushing off the knot tightening in my stomach.

Her eyes lingered on me a beat longer—concern etched into the faint lines around them—but she didn’t push. She left with a final wave, her low heels clicking softly on the tiles. Guilt clawed at me as the door swung shut behind her.

I didn’t deserve her kindness. Not when I didn’t even want to be here.

The rest of the staff wrapped up fast, eager to escape. I stacked the last menus, glancing toward the window as their laughter echoed faintly outside.

Locking the front door behind me, I stepped into the cool night air. Carrie waved from across the lot as she climbed into her car. I lifted a hand in return, giving her a forced smile. Her headlights swept past as she pulled out, leaving the lot nearly deserted.

I turned toward my car, fumbling with my keys, when I noticed Sam leaning against the hood of his truck a few feet away. His blond hair caught the glow of the neon sign, almost as bright as the smile he shone my way.

“Eve! I was hoping to catch you.”

“Hey, Sam. What’s up?” I kept my tone light as I unlocked my car, but I already had a sense of what was coming and I’d been avoiding it for weeks.

He shifted his weight. “Uh, yeah, so… My friends and I are gonna build a fire pit down by the quarry and have a few beers,” he scratched the back of his neck. “Thought it might be nice if you could come. You know, if you’re not busy or anything?”

I hesitated. Sam was a nice guy, but I’d hardly known him long. He’d started working at the diner just a few months ago, but I’d noticed the way he’d been looking at me lately—the lingering glances paired with the awkward jokes and attempts to cheer me up.

I’d ignored it. Hoped he’d lose interest.

He was just a… boy. I couldn’t help but think it every time I caught him staring. He was sweet, wasn’t afraid to get his hands dirty at work, and I could tell he meant well, but he was barely out of college and utterly clueless.

I cleared my throat, gripping my keys tightly. “Listen, Sam, I’m exhausted—”

“Totally get it. You were out last night, right? Tequila sunrises with Lila and Darcy?” He chuckled. “Next time, yeah?”

I opened my mouth, but the words caught. I wanted to correct him—to tell him that this wasn’t a rain check and that I wasn’t interested—but I was honestly too exhausted. This felt like a temporary out.

“Sure,” I said finally, offering a weak smile.

His face lit up, and the guilt flared again.

“Great! I’ll see you tomorrow?” He waved, hopping into his truck. I let out a long breath when his tail lights finally disappeared.

I slid into my car, tossing my bag onto the passenger seat.

Starting the engine felt like climbing a mountain.

My stomach growled and my eyelids drooped.

I regretted not grabbing a coffee. The hum of the engine and crackle of the radio were the only sounds breaking the stillness of the drive home. Though it wasn’t really my house.

The little craftsman had been Louise’s long before I was dropped on her doorstep. We moved into Harold’s place when he got sick, but eventually, I got older and needed my own space, so it was a convenient decision.

I rounded a bend, headlights cutting through the dark and weaving through the trees. My hands ached against the steering wheel, tension wound tight in my shoulders. Maybe tomorrow I’d feel better. Maybe not.

A flicker of movement pulled at my attention. I pressed the brakes lightly, slowing down as my eyes scanned the road. It wasn’t unusual for some kind of animal to appear on the rural lane I drove down, but the last thing I needed was to hit something.

But the road looked clear. The headlights didn’t even catch a stray branch hanging over the road. I shook my head and pressed on. It was probably just wind.

Still, my pulse ticked faster as I picked up my speed.

I blinked, just for a second, and opened my eyes to the sight of a man on the road.

My chest seized as I slammed my foot on the brake. I swerved, maybe a little too much, tires screeching.

The car jolted off course.

I screamed as the car slid on the wet road and flipped over the embankment. Rocks slammed against the undercarriage in a roar. Headlights whipped wildly through the dark. Branches clawed at the windshield, snapping like brittle bones.

The car slammed to a stop. My head slammed into the steering wheel as glass exploded and the airbag stole the breath from my lungs.