When he walked in, I saw that familiar plaid shirt and immediately felt a rush of relief and nerves. He settled into his usual booth, glancing up with that same gentle smile. But this time, there was a glint of recognition in his eyes, a silent acknowledgment of our shared secret.

I approached his table, trying to steady my trembling hands. “Good morning,” I said softly. “Can we talk?”

He nodded, gesturing for me to sit. I slid into the booth across from him, heart pounding.

“I know who you are,” I confessed, searching his face for any sign of regret or confirmation.