The Rusty Spoon Diner looked exactly the same as it had a few days ago—faded paint, flickering neon sign, windows that hadn't seen a proper cleaning in years. But everything else felt different.
Jayden sat in the same corner booth, back to the wall, but this time his hands weren't wrapped around a coffee mug. They were clenched into fists on the table, knuckles white with tension. His jaw was tight, his eyes hard and cold in a way they hadn't been during their last meeting.
Fred was seated across from him, studying the teenager with a mixture of concern and wariness. The kid who'd walked into this diner days ago had been guarded, cautious, but still fundamentally... young. The person sitting across from him now looked like someone who'd aged years in a matter of hours.
They'd agreed to meet here after Jayden called and narrated the situation. Fred had known immediately that this conversation was going to be different from the casual discussion they had before.
