Chapter 4 - THE MAN WHO KNEW HER NAME
Vincent returned the following Tuesday.
And the Tuesday after that.
Always table four.
Always alone.
He ordered whatever Harper recommended.
Sometimes they exchanged only a few words.
Other nights, when the restaurant was quiet, they talked.
Not about his businesses.
Not about the rumors.
About ordinary things.
Books.
Music.
Chicago winters.
The strange habits of restaurant customers.
One evening, Harper found him staring at a photograph on his phone.
A young woman with dark hair smiled beside a little boy.
Vincent locked the screen immediately.
Harper pretended not to notice.
But he spoke.
“My sister.”
Harper looked at him.
“She looks happy.”
“She was.”
The past tense settled between them.
Harper lowered her voice.
“What happened?”
Vincent looked toward the window.
“She died.”
“I'm sorry.”
He nodded.
“Her son lives with my aunt now.”
Harper sat in the empty chair opposite him.
Only for a moment.
“Do you see him?”
“Not enough.”
“Why?”
Vincent looked at her.
“Because people around me get hurt.”
Harper studied him.
“And staying away protects them?”
“I hope so.”
She shook her head.
“Sometimes absence hurts too.”
Vincent went still.
For a moment, she thought she'd gone too far.
Then he whispered:
“You sound like her.”
“Your sister?”
He nodded.
“She used to tell me I was confusing protection with control.”
Harper smiled sadly.
“She sounds smart.”
“She was.”
Silence settled.
Then Vincent looked at her.
“Do you ever get tired of being strong?”
Harper laughed without humor.
“Every day.”
He nodded.
“Me too.”
May you like
And for the first time, she saw something beneath his reputation.
Loneliness.
