I stayed where I was and finished the last sip of my coffee. The sizzle from the grill carried through the diner. My stomach twisted, and I focused on the crack in the counter instead of how hungry I felt. But then a plate landed in front of me.
I startled, my gaze snapping up to a cheeseburger with a heap of golden fries. The bun was toasted, the patty thick, and the cheese melted perfectly over the edges. Lettuce, tomato, and pickles were piled neatly to the side.
My mouth watered as I mumbled, “I didn’t order?—”
Sharon waved a hand, already turning back toward the kitchen. “Customer didn’t want cheese. Just a hamburger. Would’ve gone to waste.”
We both knew that wasn’t true.
I stared at the plate, heat rising behind my eyes. “I don’t have?—”
She sighed and finally faced me fully. “Can’t help with the job, but at least I can fill your belly with food I would’ve thrown out.”
My chest ached at her kindness. I pressed my lips together and nodded. “Thank you.”
She flashed me a quick smile and disappeared into the kitchen again.
I ate slowly, savoring every bite. Generosity wasn’t something I ran into often. For a few minutes, sitting in a warm diner with real food in front of me, I didn’t feel quite so invisible.
I slid off the stool once my plate was empty, my stomach warm in a way it hadn’t been in a long time.
Sharon caught my eye as I reached for my wallet. “You don’t need to?—”
“I know.” I pulled out a five-dollar bill and set it on the counter anyway. “Please.”
She frowned, her gaze flicking to the empty plate. “That was just?—”
“Kindness,” I finished quietly. “Which I appreciate more than you can know.”
For a moment, she looked like she might argue. Then she sighed and nodded once, like she understood this wasn’t really about the food.
“All right. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
“So do I.” I slung my backpack over my shoulder and offered her a small smile. “Thank you. Really.”
She waved as I headed for the door, and the bell jingled behind me as I stepped back out into the cold.
I was full for the first time in days, but it didn’t make leaving any easier.
My hands rested on the steering wheel while I sat in my car with the engine off. A year ago, I hadn’t even had this.
Every spare dollar I’d earned had gone toward this crappy beater. I had worked awful shifts, picked up doubles, and smiled at people who barely paid attention to me. I’d slept in youth hostels when I could, cheap motels when I couldn’t, and the back seat when I ran out of options.
The car wasn’t much. It rattled if I went over sixty and made a concerning noise every time I turned it off. But it was mine. It gave me more freedom than I’d ever had before.
Exhaustion settled deep in my bones as I leaned my forehead against the steering wheel. Not the kind of tired a good night’s sleep could fix. Always having to be careful was more draining than anyone would ever guess.
I straightened after a moment and started the engine.
I could rest later.
Right now, I needed to find somewhere safe to spend the night.
The gas light blinked on, not even a mile from the diner.
I swore under my breath and eased off the accelerator, watching the needle hover stubbornly a few tick marks above empty like it was daring me to push my luck. I checked mycheap, prepaid phone at the next stoplight and groaned when I saw I had only one bar of service.
As if that wasn’t bad enough, rain began to tap against the windshield. The mountains ahead disappeared behind a curtain of gray, and the temperature dropped enough that I cranked the heat up.
