Then her mother got sick.
Then the bills arrived.
Then the silence.
Grief didn’t come gently. It came with eviction notices and overdue statements.
So Elena worked.
She worked because rent doesn’t wait for healing.
She worked because exhaustion was easier than heartbreak.
Near closing time, a gust of wind forced the diner door open just enough to ring the bell.
Elena stepped around the counter to shut it.
That’s when she saw him.
Outside, under a dim streetlight, sat an elderly man in a wheelchair.
Soaked.
Shaking.
Completely alone.
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