I was still staring at the empty chair across from me when the café door opened.
The chatter died.
The barista froze mid-pour. A couple at the corner table held their sandwiches mid-air.
I looked up and saw Frank walking in like the room had been waiting for him. Like the air itself had been holding its breath.
Darius behind him. Two men flanked him. Another lingered a few paces back. No raised voices. No visible weapons. Just the authority of people who’d never needed to announce themselves.
Every person in the café felt it. I felt it in my chest, pressing down like an invisible hand, like someone had slammed the lid on a coffin over my ribs.
Frank’s eyes found me. He stopped at my table and scanned the empty chair across from me like he already knew who or what should be there. The
