"Don't be sorry. Just keep moving."
Her teeth were chattering so badly that speaking was becoming difficult.
Ten minutes felt like an hour.
Arthur looked toward her.
"Tell me about yourself."
Lashonda almost laughed.
"Not much to tell. I work at the diner. Volunteer Sundays. That's about it."
"The coat. You said it belonged to your mother?"
"Yeah."
Lashonda kept walking.
"She died two years ago. Cancer."
"I'm sorry."
"She was a nurse. Jefferson Memorial. Twenty-three years."
Lashonda did not know why she was telling him these things.
Maybe conversation distracted her from the cold.
Maybe she needed to remember why she had made this choice.
Arthur nodded slowly.
"She sounds remarkable."
"She was."
They turned a corner.
The wind hit them directly.
Lashonda's knees almost buckled.
She grabbed a lamppost to steady herself.
Arthur held onto her.
"How much farther?"
Lashonda squinted through the snow.
"I think two blocks."
Two blocks.
She could survive two blocks.
They continued.
Lashonda's entire body was shaking.
She could no longer feel her fingertips.
Her toes had gone numb.
The cold felt as if it had moved past her clothes and into her bones.
But Arthur was still walking.
Still breathing.
And Diane's coat was keeping him warm.
Then Lashonda finally saw the brownstones.
Beautiful historic homes.
Pristine steps.
Ornate iron railings.
Even through the snow, the difference between this neighborhood and hers was obvious.
Old money.
Real wealth.
"Which one?"
Arthur pointed halfway down the block.
"Red door."
There it was.
Iron gate.
Red door.
Exactly as he had remembered.
They stumbled toward the entrance.
Arthur tried to use the security panel, but his hands were still too cold.
Lashonda helped press the buttons he indicated.
The gate buzzed.
Then clicked open.
Warm light glowed through the windows beyond it.
Lashonda could see expensive furniture inside.
Artwork.
A home worth more than she would likely earn in ten lifetimes.
Arthur exhaled.
"I can get in from here."
He immediately began removing the coat.
"Please. Take this back."
"No."
Lashonda stepped away.
"Keep it. Get inside. Get warm."
"Miss Hayes..."
"Promise me you'll stay inside."
Arthur stared at her.
"I promise."
"Good."
"How can I repay you? At least let me call a car for you."
"No need."
"Please."
Lashonda shook her head.
"Pay it forward someday. Help somebody else."
Arthur stared at her as if trying to memorize her face.
"Wait. I don't even know your full name. How will I find you?"
"Lashonda Hayes."
She hesitated.
Then smiled faintly.
"But you don't need to find me. Just be safe."
She turned and started walking before he could argue.
Before she could reconsider the coat.
Before she could ask for anything.
The walk home became the longest three miles of Lashonda's life.
Without the wool coat, the cold was merciless.
She ran when her body allowed it.
When the wind became unbearable, she pressed herself into doorways for a few seconds before continuing.
Her arms stayed wrapped tightly around her torso.
She thought about Diane.
You did right, baby.
Her mother's voice sounded almost real.
You did right.