HERO
Incorrect password
His jaw tightened. He tried variations. Combinations. Everything he could remember David caring about as a kid.
All failed.
"Take a break." Cara appeared beside him with coffee he didn't remember her making. "Forcing it won't help."
"I don't have time for breaks. Forty-eight hours before my supervisor files paperwork that ends my career." He heard the edge in his own voice. Couldn't stop it. "David trusted me to figure this out, but I can't even get past the first step."
She set the coffee down. Didn't argue. Didn't try to fix it.
Just stood there. Steady. Present.
The bakery door opened. Reagan bustled in carrying bags from the diner, her blonde hair escaping its bun, apron stained with evidence of the lunch rush.
"Nobody's eaten since breakfast." She started unpacking containers. "Tom, stop drilling. Wade, put down the scary tools. Piper, your hands better be clean."
"They're not," Piper called cheerfully. "But I'll wash them."
Within minutes, the destroyed bakery smelled like burgers and fries and apple pie. Reagan laid everything out on the one intact table like she was setting up for a family dinner instead of feeding people at a crime scene.
"Gabe." She pointed at a chair. "Sit. Eat. You look like you're about to fall over."
He wanted to argue, but his body made the decision for him. He sat.
Tom settled across from him. Wade took the end spot, positioning himself with clear sight lines to both doors. Piper plopped down next to Cara and immediately started talking about the structural integrity of the espresso machine.
Reagan distributed food, quietly making sure everyone had what they needed.
Gabe ate without tasting anything. But he observed Cara’s friends as they moved around each other with easy familiarity. Piper teased her dad and Tom took it with good-natured patience. Wade cracked exactly one joke about the difference between screws and nails, and everyone laughed because Wade making jokes was apparently noteworthy.
They all looked at Cara like she was family.
"Thank you." Cara's voice was quiet. Aimed at the table generally. "All of you. Showing up like this. Helping. I don't know how to repay this."
"You don't," Reagan said simply. "You just show up when it's your turn."
Tom nodded. "Besides, Piper needed to learn proper disaster response. Life skills."
"I'm literally documenting everything for my college applications," Piper informed them. "Community service hours count double if there's property damage involved. I checked."
That earned another laugh. Warm. Real.
Gabe's chest tightened in a way that had nothing to do with the food.
If I disappeared tomorrow, who'd show up?
Morrison would file paperwork. His condo neighbors might notice the mail piling up after a week. The woman at the coffee shop near his apartment might wonder why he stopped coming in.
But this? People dropping everything to help? Showing up with food and tools and time?
He didn't have this.
David was the only family he had left. The only person who'd come looking if Gabe vanished.
And it had taken Gabe three weeks to come to the rescue.
