The girls followed. Andrew stood frozen behind the counter as the door jingled shut behind them. It took him a moment to move. Then he walked briskly to the table and opened the billfold. His fingers stilled. Tip: $9.11
At first, he blinked. “That’s… way too much,” he whispered. For a $10 check? That was almost a full shift’s tips in one moment. But then—the girl’s stare. The flicker of her eyes. That haunting urgency. 9.11. His chest tightened. 9-1-1.