Steam rises from the first pot of the morning, smelling of chicory and burnt sugar. The diner is a cathedral of linoleum and chrome at 6:00 AM, the only light coming from the flickering neon sign outside and the neon-bright sports ticker on the wall-mounted TV.
Hallie freezes, the coffee carafe hovering over a porcelain mug as the anchor’s voice cuts through the quiet. The trade is official. Cooper Vance, the golden boy of Texas football, is coming home to Austin. A decade of silence vanishes in a single headline, and the secret Hallie has tucked away for ten years suddenly has a ticking clock. Wren is upstairs, sleeping in the apartment above the griddle, oblivious to the fact that her father is no longer a ghost on a screen.
She wipes the counter with a shaking hand, her gaze darting to the window. The dawn light is gray and weak, catching on the gravel lot. Outside, a matte-black truck with Austin plates slows to a crawl.
