Three days later, Lena Harris disappeared.
Lena Morgan started working at Martha’s Diner.
PART 2 — THE LIFE I SECRETLY BUILT
The restaurant was small and run-down, with cracked booths and a menu that hadn’t changed in decades. But the coffee was strong, the customers were friendly, and no one treated me with disdain.
I served drinks, carried plates, cleaned tables, and little by little I remembered what it felt like to be respected for my work.
At night, I would sit on Aunt May’s porch and watch the sun sink into the ocean. Gradually, my shoulders relaxed. I began to sleep through the night. I laughed without wondering if someone was recording me.
Six weeks after my arrival, a stranger staggered into the restaurant and collapsed near the counter.
His shirt was stained with blood from a wound in his side. For a terrifying moment, I thought Kyle had found me and was preparing another cruel performance.
