I groan. “Please stop saying things like that.”
Willow grins. “So, what’s the plan?”
“You get the coffee.”
She raises an eyebrow. “And you?”
“I stay here until the coast is clear.”
She shrugs. “Alright. What do you want?”
“Large latte.”
“Milk?”
“Oat milk.”
“Sugar?”
“A little.”
“You’re very demanding for someone hiding in a bathroom.”
“Go.”
Willow laughs and heads back out.
The door closes again and I wait.
A few minutes later Willow slips back in carrying two cups.
“Mission successful,” she announces.
“You’re a hero.”
She hands me the latte.
“He’s still out there,” she adds casually. “But they look like they’re about to leave.”
I consider that.
“Back exit?”
Willow nods slowly. “Back exit.”
We wait another minute, listening carefully.
Then I open the door a crack.
The hallway behind the café is quiet, leading toward the delivery entrance at the back of the building. Perfect.
“Go,” Willow whispers.
We slip down the corridor and push through the rear door.
The alley behind the coffee shop is nearly empty - just a couple of bikes chained to the railing and a delivery truck idling farther down the street.
I take two steps outside and hear the front door of the café open behind the building.
