Chapter 1 - TWO DOLLARS
Austin Pembrook arrived ten minutes before closing.
Sadi Boyd knew who he was before he sat down.
Everyone did.
His face belonged on financial magazines, airport billboards, and articles about private jets written for people who could not afford rent.
He wore a dark suit worth more than Sadi’s car.
“Coffee,” he said.
“That all?”
“For now.”
He barely looked at her.
That irritated her more than arrogance would have.
Sadi served him eggs, toast, and black coffee.
He ate quietly while the cooks whispered.
When he finished, he placed two crumpled dollars on the table.
“Keep it.”
One waitress laughed.
Then another.
Sadi stared at the money.
“You spent forty-eight dollars.”
Austin stood.
“I can count.”
He walked toward the door.
Sadi muttered:
“Asshole.”
Then lifted his plate.
A folded note sat underneath.
She opened it.
YOUR FATHER WAS NOT ROBBED.
HE WAS MURDERED.
DO NOT GO HOME.
KEEP THE LOCKET.
KING STREET. 217.
Sadi’s breath vanished.
“My father was murdered?”
Her hand grabbed the silver locket at her neck.
Then tires stopped outside.
A black SUV.
A man in a raincoat entered.
Scar across his jaw.
His eyes found the necklace immediately.
“Give me the locket.”
Sadi stepped backward.
“Stay the hell away from me.”
He moved closer.
“Now.”
The kitchen went silent.
Sadi looked at the stack of plates beside her.
Then smashed one onto the floor.
CRASH.
Everyone flinched.
She ran.
“Stop her!”
Sadi burst through the back door into heavy rain.
The scarred man followed.
She reached the avenue just as a city bus pulled away.
Sadi grabbed the rail.
The driver shouted.
She jumped inside.
The doors slammed.
The scarred man reached them one second too late.
Sadi stumbled toward the back.
Through the wet glass, she saw him lift a phone.
He was not angry.
He was reporting.
May you like
And suddenly Austin’s insult made terrible sense.
Someone had been watching to see whether he treated her like she mattered.
