He leaned toward her and said something I couldn’t hear.
The girl’s shoulders immediately folded inward.
Cole saw it too.
His jaw tightened.
“Grant.”
“I know.”
The waitress returned with the check.
The man reached for his wallet, looked toward the entrance again, then stood.
“Stay here,” he told the girl.
It was the first thing I’d clearly heard him say to her.
He walked toward the register.
The girl waited until he was halfway across the room.
Then she moved.
She slid from the booth without making a sound.
At first I thought she might be heading toward the restroom, but she passed the hallway.
She continued down the center aisle, moving between chairs and tables filled with leather-clad strangers.
One rider shifted his boots aside for her.
Another smiled.
She ignored both.
Her eyes were fixed on me.
I still don’t know why.
Maybe because I was older.
Maybe because I was sitting where she could see the door.
Maybe because something about my face reminded her of someone she trusted.
Whatever the reason, she came directly to our booth.
Her fingers touched my vest.
I immediately put my fork down.
“Hey there.
Are you all right?”
She shook her head.
Her eyes darted toward the register.
The man was reaching into his wallet.
I lowered my voice.
“Do you need help?”
Her lips moved.
I couldn’t hear her.
I leaned closer without touching her.
“What did you say?”
She swallowed.
Then came the words.
“That man is not my dad.”
For a second, the entire diner seemed to disappear.
I could hear the refrigerator humming behind the counter.
I could hear a motorcycle engine ticking as it cooled outside.
I could hear Cole slowly putting his coffee cup down.
I looked at the girl.
“Who is he?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I don’t know.”
Cole was already watching the register.
The man had received his change.
He turned around.
His eyes went immediately to the empty booth.
Then to us.
Everything about his face changed.
He started across the diner.
Fast.
The girl stepped behind my shoulder.
I stood.
So did Cole.
The man stopped several feet away when he realized both of us were between him and the child.
“She wandered off,” he said.
“Come on, sweetheart.”
The girl pressed closer behind me.
I kept my voice calm.
“She says she doesn’t know you.”
His expression hardened for half a second before a nervous smile replaced it.
“She’s upset.”
“What is her name?”
He blinked.
It was small.
Almost nothing.
But I saw it.
Cole saw it too.
The man pointed toward the girl.
“Emily.
Her name is Emily.”
Behind me came a whisper.
“My name is Lucy.”
Cole’s chair scraped against the floor.
Several conversations nearby stopped.
The man heard her.
His eyes moved toward the entrance.
That was when I understood he wasn’t thinking about explaining himself anymore.
He was thinking about leaving.
I stepped sideways, keeping myself between him and the girl.
“Don’t make this complicated,” he said quietly.
“I don’t intend to.”
“She’s coming with me.”
“No.”
The word wasn’t loud.
It didn’t need to be.
A strange ripple moved through the diner.