It happened at closing time one day. Lena stepped outside to dump a bag of recyclables, and Evan caught the door before it shut. She startled, nearly dropping the bag. He apologized, keeping his voice gentle, but the moment he asked if she was safe here, her expression tightened, like he’d stepped on something raw.
“I don’t mean to pry,” he said. “I just… if someone’s bothering you, or if you need help—” She shook her head rapidly, breathing too fast for the calm evening air. He saw panic rather than irritation. It was a reflexive terror of being cornered by kindness.