"No."
His voice grew slightly stronger.
"I won't forget you."
Something in the way he said it made her pause.
It sounded less like gratitude than a promise.
She glanced at the clock.
11:19.
Eleven minutes until the last bus.
"Arthur, I need to get you somewhere safe. Do you remember your address?"
He frowned deeply.
"Brownstone. Red door. There's a gate. Iron gate."
Lashonda immediately knew the neighborhood.
"Do you think you can walk if I help you?"
Arthur tried to stand.
He wobbled.
Lashonda caught his arm.
"I can try," he said.
She looked at him closely.
Expensive watch.
Cashmere cardigan.
Shivering inside her worn diner booth.
Then she thought about Diane Hayes.
Her mother had worked as a nurse for 23 years.
Double shifts.
Late nights.
Extra time with patients who had nobody.
Giving her own lunch away to families who could not afford food from the hospital cafeteria.
We don't have much, baby, but we have enough to share.
Lashonda walked to the coat hook.
She lifted the burgundy wool coat.
For some reason, it felt heavier than usual.
She brought the fabric close to her face and breathed in.
White Diamonds.
Faint.
Almost gone.
Still there.
Her mother's coat had survived 20 winters.
It had wrapped around Lashonda at her graduation.
It carried memories no amount of money could replace.
It was the one thing she had refused to sell.
Lashonda walked back to Arthur.
Then she draped the coat around his shoulders.
Arthur immediately shook his head.
"Wait. I can't take your coat."
"Yes, you can."
Lashonda began buttoning it.
"This was my mama's. It's real wool. It'll keep you warm."
"But you'll freeze."
"I'm younger."
She forced a smile.
"I move faster. I'll be fine."
She was not sure that was true.
But she said it anyway.
Lashonda tied a spare apron around her waist for another thin layer and pulled the hood of her work uniform over her head.
It was almost nothing.
But it was what she had.
Arthur stood carefully.
The burgundy coat hung loosely around his thinner frame.
Lashonda took his arm.
"Come on. Let's get you home."
The second she opened the door, the storm struck them.
Wind tore through Lashonda's uniform.
Ice stung her face.
The cold air burned inside her lungs.
Arthur stumbled on the first step.
Lashonda caught him.
"Slow and steady. Lean on me."
They moved into the storm.
Within seconds, Lashonda could barely feel her hands.
Visibility dropped until she could see only several feet ahead.
She locked her arm around Arthur's and pulled him close.
He moved slowly.
Every step deliberate.
Lashonda matched his pace even though every instinct told her to run.
The cold found every opening in her clothes.
Her uniform froze against her legs.
Her feet went numb inside her duct-taped work shoes.
She started shivering violently.
"East," she whispered through chattering teeth. "Just keep going east."
Arthur leaned heavily against her.
They passed a closed bodega.
A dark laundromat.
Every business was sealed against the storm.
"I'm sorry," Arthur said. "I'm slowing you down."