I Returned to the Same Diner Every Birthday

felt off.

I stopped just inside. My eyes went to our window booth, and there, in Steed’s seat, sat a stranger.

He was young—mid-twenties maybe—tall, shoulders tense under a dark jacket. He held a small envelope and kept glancing at the clock, as if doubting what he waited for would come.

He saw me watching and stood up quickly.

“Ma’am,” he said hesitantly.continue reading …