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Slowly, Bridget peeked out from her hiding spot. The street had returned to its normal bustle of tourists and locals. Had she imagined him? Maybe her mind had conjured up a monster from fragments of her past. She so hoped that was the case because that man knew things—terrible things she never wanted to resurface.
Taking a steadying breath, she resumed her walk toward the diner. Her eyes darted in her peripheral vision, her heart still thudding like a drum in her chest. She would have to act normal, especially when she saw Reese. No one could know about the man or the dark secrets clinging to her past. She couldn’t risk anything ruining the idyllic life she was making for herself here in White Rock.
By the time Bridget reached the cozy, retro-themed diner, her heart had finally settled down, and she felt more like herself. The homey atmosphere of the diner helped calm her down even more. The air was filled with the comforting aroma of coffee and grilled beef. The clatter of dishes and silverware melded with snippets of conversations mixed with laughter from nearby tables.
She spotted Reese already seated in one of the booths, her dark hair pulled back into a ponytail, engrossed in her phone. Bridget felt a momentary burst of gratitude. Making new friends hadn’t been easy, and she appreciated the budding friendship with Reese.
“Hey there,” Bridget greeted, her voice tinged with genuine warmth.
Reese looked up, and her face broke into a smile. “Bridget! Hey, come sit.”
Bridget slid in the opposite side. The red vinyl of the booth was worn but welcoming to the touch, and the lighting—a mix of natural daylight and fluorescent lamps—cast a warm, slightly nostalgic glow over everything.
Bridget felt a sense of relief wash over her. Everything here was normal, homey, easy. No one was bursting through the door trying to ruin her life. Now she was certain she had imagined the man on the street being the same one from her past. Probably just a touch of PTSD from the horrible life she used to lead.
Being around Reese was easy—she was funny, smart, and one of those people who made you feel like you’d known them forever. Bridget found herself admiring Reese, especially her ambition. Reese was going to the police academy, and Bridget couldn’t help but feel a pang of envy. What a decisive path to have.
Bridget’s eyes flicked briefly over the laminated menu, its colorful pictures of milkshakes and burgers a bit faded from years of use. She already knew what she craved—a comforting grilled-cheese sandwich.
The waitress, a middle-aged woman with a warm smile and streaks of silver in her hair, approached their booth. Her name tag read Jenny, and her uniform bore a few faint stains from what was likely a long shift. “What can I get you ladies?”
“I’ll have a grilled cheese, please,” Bridget said, handing the menu back to Jenny.
“And I’ll take a BLT,” Reese added, setting her phone face down beside her coffee mug.
“Coming right up,” Jenny assured them, tucking her notepad into her apron and sauntering back toward the kitchen.
“What’s in the bag?” Reese gestured toward the small paper bag that sat next to Bridget on the booth.
“Saffron.” Bridget grinned, pulling the tiny jar from the bag to show her. “I found a recipe for saffron risotto I wanted to try.”
“Sounds delish. I love how you keep trying new recipes and everything comes out awesome. I burn everything I make.”
Bridget laughed, the sound tinged with a lightness that belied the morning’s unsettling episode. “I’m sure you’re not that bad. Besides, you’re probably good at a lot of things that I stink at.”
Reese’s eyes sparkled as she leaned closer over the table. The atmosphere seemed to shift, filling with a sense of expectancy. “Speaking of things I’m good at, I scoured my resources and found out more about Eve Duchamp and her family.”
Bridget’s heart jumped in her chest. “Go on,” Bridget urged, her eyes locked on to Reese’s.
“They changed their name to Woodson and stayed in town for years,” Reese said.
The waitress came back with their lunches, and they refrained from talking until she was well out of earshot.
“Are they still in town?” Bridget asked.
Reese grabbed the ketchup and smacked the bottom as she poured a puddle for her fries. “Hard to know. I couldn’t get any information on that. I dug around a bit but couldn’t find out anything more.”
Bridget settled back in her seat. “Well, what you did find is huge. Thank you so much. I just hope you’re not getting yourself in any trouble for me.”
“Don’t worry about that,” Reese reassured her with a small wave of her hand. “I’m happy to help. Besides, what you’re doing—searching for your past, for the truth—it’s brave. I admire that.”
Bridget felt a warm glow at Reese’s words. She needed that encouragement more than she cared to admit.
As they dug into their lunches, the conversation pivoted from the serious to the mundane. Reese entertained Bridget with amusing anecdotes about her police academy classmates and their trainers. Bridget found herself laughing genuinely, her grilled cheese forgotten momentarily as she relished the natural camaraderie.
It had been such a long time since she’d had a friend she could just talk to. A long time since she didn’t have to glance over her shoulder, anticipating trouble. And it had certainly been a long time since she could sit down and enjoy a good meal without the weight of her past threatening to spoil it.
A warmth washed over her. Here she was, building a new life piece by piece. A life filled with potential friendships, promising opportunities, and a freedom she had never thought she’d experience. She was determined to protect this fledgling happiness at all costs.
