She approached Henry in the corner; his eyes locked with hers, and she placed the steaming cup before him, then handed him the paper. “It’s from yesterday,” she said with only a hint of a smile, “but…I thought you wouldn’t mind.”

He seemed surprised at first, but then pleased, as though she’d just saved him from social awkwardness. From the look of it, she may as well have saved his life. He smiled a polite smile and nodded. “Thank you, Ms. Ashton.” He began reaching inside the pocket of his jacket, but she stopped him, placing her hand on his shoulder.

“I meant it, Mr. Clayton. I won’t accept your money.” She walked away before he could argue, and the room was silent. What was so unusual about her exchange with Henry she didn’t know, but whatever it was, it shut everyone up. And while trying to look discreet, they were in fact quite obvious, with their roaming eyes.

She worked behind the counter, hurrying—but not rushing—to fulfill everyone else’s orders as they formed a line toward the counter.

Things moved fast and she liked the busy feel, the way things rolled smoothly along. When Regina finished, she sighed and scooted away from the table she’d shared with Taggart, Eustace, Old Ray, and Doc Ortiz. “I guess I better get back to it,” she said, standing. “Nicole wanted to check this place out.” She saw Elizabeth’s surprise and chuckled. “I know.” Regina reached behind the counter and gave Elizabeth a quick, tight squeeze, her hair smelling as it always did: bitter coffee and menthol Newports. “Keep it up, Beth.” She’d said the same thing before she left yesterday, too, after she said how amazing the latte was—the best she’d ever had.

“Bye, Regina,” Elizabeth said after her. A pleasing smell emanated from the kitchen, telling her the pastries were done, and after she let them cool a few minutes, she placed them on the trays behind the glass counter. Immediately, nearly everyone rose, flocking back to the counter.

Nicole and Brian entered then, and Elizabeth swore her heart stopped beating all together as she locked eyes with Brian: head low, hair disheveled, and a dark line on the corner of his lip. Around that side of his mouth, the skin had a greenish tint. Yet all she could see was him above her, the image of his enraged face swirling due to the rain flooding her eyes. And within seconds, venomous thoughts of rage, humiliation, and retribution began spinning in her head.

She closed her eyes briefly, inhaling through her nose.

From the way Nicole’s arm was through his, claiming him, she guessed no one knew what he had done. Perhaps Nicole had dragged him here. How he had the nerve to show his face here at all was beyond Elizabeth’s now muddled comprehension.

“Beth,” Eustace said, and her eyes shot to him. Others watched her, too; he may have said her name more than once. Cautiously, he extended a five-dollar bill in her direction. “You all right, Beth?”

After a short second she smiled and nodded, hiding every ounce of her discomfort. “Of course, Old Man.” She took his money, opened the cash drawer, and withdrew his change. She handed it to him. “Just…getting used to running this place, that’s all.”

“Hope we don’t keep you too busy,” he said, a hint of a smile lifting his beard.

“I hope you do.” As she smiled back, Brian approached the end of the line. Nicole sat at one of the tables while she waited, conversing in a surprisingly friendly way with Sheppy. At the table beside them, in the corner, was Henry.

Henry.

He sat rigidly at his corner table, his vision planted on the back of Brian’s head as though deadly darts would shoot from his eyes at any moment. She prayed this wouldn’t end messily.

In a quiet voice unlike his own, Brian ordered two coffees, both with cream. Then he glanced nonchalantly—but too conspicuously, in her opinion—around to make sure everyone else was out of earshot. He leaned over the counter and she recoiled, his presence giving her goose bumps. “Beth,” he began softly, then paused. “I…I’m sorry. I feel awful about it. I hope you know that’s not who I am and I would never—”

“That’ll be four twenty-one,” she interrupted, unable to meet his eyes. Instead, she looked at the glass counter, where his hands rested. Grease tattooed his skin, beneath the circular and maze-like patterns of his fingertips.

“Beth, come on. I can’t stand this. I never wanted to—”

“I don’t care.” She was about to tell him to leave, but didn’t want to make a scene. She thought her next words through carefully, whether she meant them or not. “That’s fine if you want to come in here, but don’t expect small talk. Don’t talk to me about anything other than coffee.”

Silence. A stare-down.

“Got it?” she asked through tight lips.

He was about to say something—probably through his teeth, judging by the way that vein began to bulge from his forehead—but Henry appeared behind him, startling the both of them. He put a hand on Brian’s shoulder, a friendly gesture to any outside eyes, but a threatening one to those who knew. Thankfully, no one else did. “Is there a problem, Mr. Dane?”

Brian sighed, edging his shoulder out from under Henry’s hand. “No, Mr. Clayton.” His bitter voice lacked its usual respect for Henry.

“Then why haven’t you paid Ms. Ashton?”

“Brian, what’s going on?” Nicole asked as she approached, arms folded.

Brian faked a smile. “Nothing.” He handed Elizabeth a five and his eyes, directed at hers, were malicious. She tried not to cower at the way they said so much. “Keep the change.”

With that, he and Nicole walked away, sitting at the table next to Henry’s—with his coffee and paper still atop it. Without words, Henry’s eyes met hers, communicating with her in the same way they did at night.

She only nodded, in answer to his silent question. He nodded too, and returned to his table.

“Have you seen the monster behind your house yet, Beth?” Eustace asked from one of the tables, crumbs topping the napkin, which once held his puff pastry.

Briefly, she stumbled over her words. Then, while all were silent—and while Henry watched her warily from his table—she said, “I…I’m not sure, Eustace. I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” Taggart asked. “I think you’d know.”

“Nah, the thing can be quiet as a mouse,” Eustace said, still eyeing her. “But it is back there. It’s always back there.”

She wiped runaway coffee off the counter. Even Sheppy, who’d been conversing with the teens who were now leaving, fell silent. “Beth,” Taggart said, sitting forward and narrowing his eyes. “Why do I get the sense you’re hiding something?”

She shrugged, as casually as she could. “I don’t know what you mean, Sheriff.”

“I just think it’s strange how cozy you feel living there, knowing that thing is out there.”

“What do you want me to do? You want me to say I’m scared?”

The silence lasted only a moment. “That would feel more appropriate,” he admitted.

“Well, I’m not. I think I’ll fare just fine with the beast.” She went back to wiping down the counter, but still felt eyes on her.

“You’re not…you know, wandering out there, are you?” Eustace asked.

She sighed, resting her hands on the glass. “Will everyone stop worrying about me?”

“You don’t make it easy. Plus, what are we going to do if the best barista in town disappears?”

She smiled. “He’s not going to go eating me up, Eustace.”

“He,” Nicole said. “There you go with the he thing again. No disrespect, especially being in your new place like this, but it kinda freaks me out. I think it freaks us all out.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw Henry’s fingers at his eyes, rubbing. She didn’t know what to say, so she didn’t answer.

“Why’s it a he, anyway?” Nicole added. “You know something we don’t?” A few, including Nicole, chuckled.