Chapter 2 - The Morning Shift
I didn't sleep. I spent the next four hours moving Gabriel to the small cot in my tiny office, locking the door, and rigging a makeshift crib out of a clean cardboard box and warm towels for the twins. At 6:00 AM, my alarm went off.
It was time to open Miller’s Bakery. If I didn't, it would look suspicious.
I dragged myself to the front, flipped the sign to OPEN, and started the espresso machine. The bell above the door chimed at exactly 7:15 AM.
Two men walked in. They weren't my usual morning commuters. They wore cheap leather jackets, had bulky outlines under their coats, and their eyes scanned the bakery like wolves looking for a blood trail. Silas’s men.
“Morning,” the taller one said, leaning against the counter. “Coffee. Black.”
“Sure thing,” I said, keeping my hands steady as I grabbed a cup.
“You here late last night?” the second man asked, eyeing the mop in the corner.
“Until midnight,” I lied smoothly. “Deep cleaning.”
“Didn’t happen to see a guy wandering around? Tall, suit, maybe a little roughed up?”
I forced a tired laugh. “Buddy, if I saw a guy in a suit in this neighborhood at midnight, I’d be the one calling the cops.”
They stared at me for a long, agonizing moment. Just then, a faint, muffled cry echoed from the back hallway. My blood turned to ice. It was the little girl.
“What was that?” the tall one asked, his hand drifting toward his coat.
May you like
“Stray cat,” I said, not missing a beat. “Sneaks into the alley vents. Drives me crazy.” I slid their coffees across the counter. “On the house. For keeping the streets safe.”
They hesitated, then grabbed the cups and walked out. I locked the door behind them and sank to the floor, gasping for air.
