An old woman.
Hannah’s heart lurched.
The woman sat on the frozen ground with her knees pulled close to her chest. She wore a thin gray coat, the kind meant for autumn, not a January night like this. Her silver hair had come loose from its pins and clung damply to her face. One glove was missing. Her exposed hand looked pale and stiff.
Hannah rushed toward her.
“Ma’am?” she said, kneeling carefully. “Are you okay?”
The woman lifted her head slowly.
She was elderly, perhaps in her late seventies, with light skin, delicate features, and blue eyes clouded by fear and confusion. Her lips trembled so badly she could hardly speak.
“I… I don’t know where I am,” the woman whispered.
Hannah’s chest tightened.
“You’re behind Miller’s Diner,” she said gently. “In Briar Glen. Are you hurt?”
The woman looked around as if the alley had changed shape around her.
“I was going home,” she said. “I think I was going home.”
“Where do you live?”
The woman blinked.
“I…”
Her voice faded.
Hannah glanced toward the street. No one was there. No cars passed. The snow was coming harder now, covering the woman’s shoes and the hem of her coat.
She could freeze out here.
Hannah stood and looked toward the diner. Through the front window, she saw Ray moving around inside, shutting off lights.
She hurried back to the front door and knocked.
Ray looked up, annoyed.
Hannah knocked harder.
He came to the door and opened it just a few inches.
“What?”
“There’s an old woman in the alley,” Hannah said quickly. “She’s freezing. She doesn’t know where she is.”
Ray’s eyes narrowed. “Call the police.”
“I will, but she needs to come inside first.”
“We’re closed.”
“Ray, she’s sitting in the snow.”
“Then call an ambulance.”
“She might not need an ambulance. She needs warmth.”
Ray glanced past her toward the alley, then sighed in disgust. “No. Absolutely not.”
Hannah stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”
“I am serious. You let one person in, suddenly this place becomes a warming center. I’m not dealing with that.”
“She’s elderly.”
“She’s not my responsibility.”
The words landed hard.
Hannah felt something rise in her chest. Not anger exactly. Something older. Something that had lived in her since the first hospital bill came addressed to her mother after the funeral. Something that had learned how cruel the world could sound when it was inconvenienced.
“She could die out there,” Hannah said.
Ray shrugged. “Then stop wasting time and call 911.”
He started to close the door.
Hannah put her hand against it.
“For ten minutes,” she said. “Just let her sit inside for ten minutes while I call someone.”
Ray’s face hardened. “Take your hand off my door.”
For a second, Hannah did not move.
Then she stepped back.
Ray locked the door in front of her.
The click sounded louder than it should have.
Hannah stood there in the snow, looking at the CLOSED sign, feeling the cold crawl into her sleeves.
Then she turned and ran back to the alley.