Chapter 2

Jack’s face had gone pale, his hands gripping the edge of the table. “Sarah. I told you I needed space.”

“Space.” She laughed, a short, sharp sound. “You call hiding in a small-town café space? I’ve had to field three interviews and a leaked photo. The studio is panicking.” She glanced at Linah, her gaze flickering with something Linah couldn’t read. “And who’s this?”

Linah met her look without flinching. “A friend.”

“A friend.” Sarah’s smile thinned. “Jack doesn’t have friends. He has people who want something.”

“Maybe he’s tired of that.” Linah’s voice was calm, but her hand tightened on her coffee cup.

Sarah ignored her, focusing on Jack. “We need to talk. Privately. There’s a contract issue, and if you don’t show for the premiere next week, they’ll sue. You signed a paper, Jack. You can’t just walk away.”

Jack’s jaw worked. “I signed a lot of papers. Doesn’t mean they own my life.”

“They own your image. And right now, your image is a runaway train.” Sarah pulled out a chair and sat, crossing her legs. Her posture was perfect, her tone softening into something almost kind. “I’m not the enemy, Jack. I’m the one who’s been cleaning up your messes for a decade. I’m here because I care.”

Linah saw the conflict in Jack’s eyes—the pull between the old life and the new quiet he’d found. She stayed silent, waiting.

Jack looked at Sarah, then at Linah. “I’m not going back.”

“You don’t have a choice,” Sarah said, her voice dropping. “They know where you are. The press will be here by morning if you don’t call them off.” She slid a business card across the table. “My number. Use it before midnight, or I can’t protect you.”

She stood, smoothing her coat. “And Jack? The next time you want to disappear, pick a place without Wi-Fi.” Her eyes swept over Linah one last time, a flicker of disdain, then she turned and walked out, the bell jangling behind her.

The café fell quiet. Linah let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding. Jack stared at the card, not touching it.

“She’s not wrong,” he said quietly. “About the contract. About the press. I thought I could just… vanish.”

“You can,” Linah said. “But you have to want it more than you fear it.”

He looked up, his eyes searching hers. “What if I’m not sure what I want?”

Before Linah could answer, the bell jangled again. A man in a simple jacket and worn jeans stepped in, his face kind, his graying hair touched by the afternoon light. Pastor Michael.

He spotted Linah and walked over, his smile gentle. “Linah. I was hoping to find you here.” He glanced at Jack, his eyes warm with recognition. “And you must be Jack. I’ve seen your work. Welcome to our town.”

Jack blinked, caught off guard by the lack of pretense. “Thank you.”

Pastor Michael pulled up a chair, his movements unhurried. “I couldn’t help but notice the tension when I walked in. Everything all right?”

Linah shook her head slowly. “Not exactly. But maybe it can be.”

Pastor Michael looked at Jack, his gaze steady. “Sometimes the hardest battles aren’t the ones we see coming. They’re the ones we’ve been running from for years. And sometimes, the long way around is the only way to get where we need to go.”

Jack let out a long breath. “I don’t know where I need to go.”

“Then maybe start with staying.” Pastor Michael smiled. “There’s a community dinner tonight at the church. Nothing fancy. Just food, and people who listen. You’re both welcome.”

Jack looked at Linah. She gave a small nod.

“I’d like that,” Jack said, his voice rough. He slid the business card into his pocket, but didn’t look at it. “Thank you.”

Pastor Michael stood. “I’ll see you at seven. Linah knows the way.” He gave them both a gentle smile and left, the bell ringing softly.

The café settled back into its quiet rhythm. Jack turned to Linah. “You don’t have to come. I know I’m a stranger.”

“You’re not a stranger anymore,” she said. “And I think you need someone to remind you that not everyone wants something.”

He smiled—a real smile, small but genuine. “Maybe you’re right.”

Linah stood, gathering her things. “Come on. I’ll walk you to the church. It’s a few blocks.”

Jack followed, leaving the card on the table. The coin from earlier glinted in his palm—a quarter he’d picked up without thinking. He slipped it into his pocket and pushed open the door.

The afternoon air was cool, carrying the scent of fallen leaves. Linah walked beside him, her steps unhurried. For a moment, neither spoke.

Then Jack said, “Thank you. For not making me explain.”

“You will,” Linah said. “When you’re ready.”

They turned the corner, the church spire rising ahead, and the weight of the day seemed to lift, just a little.