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Café, and rewrote the small part I already had, and added the words that were now flowing to my fingers because of the smallest change this stranger had made.
    Who listens to your sad songs
    The shoulder that you cry on
    Out on that ledge you walk on
    When you’re sinking
    Who knows your keeps your secrets locked up
    When I’m there’s no one you can trust
    I know it’s much more than just wishful thinking
    Just say the words and I’ll be there
    The last line I threw in because of the stranger’s note, and smiled to myself at the words. Then below their note, I wrote my own response:
    I’m sorry if I scared you, but I’m not suicidal. (I believe that’s what you were thinking?) This is actually about a pseudo-­relationship with a guy. I appreciate your words, and I believe anyone who had been thinking of ending their life would have loved receiving your note. As much as I want to know who this heroic stranger is, I need to get home. However, I will leave this here in hopes that you find it, and that it gives you peace of mind.
    I stood and placed my notebook on top of the desk with a note below asking for the notebook to be left there. Then, despite the way my body rebelled at the action, I forced myself to walk away from my notebook and out of Mama’s Café.

 
    Chapter Four
    Charlie
    May 30, 2016
    I PULLED INTO the alleyway beside the warehouse minutes later, my mind still reeling from the stranger who had taken the time to write to someone they didn’t know. I brought Jagger’s car to an abrupt stop when I saw Keith dart from the warehouse to the front of my car, where it still sat from that morning.
    I watched as he disappeared behind the propped-­up hood of my car, and my stomach dropped.
    I looked around the alleyway, but saw only Grey’s car in its usual spot. I tried to think if I’d seen any other cars parked on the street on my way in, but I’d been so consumed in another’s words that I hadn’t been paying attention.
    My fingers danced anxiously on the steering wheel as I contemplated leaving, or finding another way to get into the warehouse—­like a window—­where I wouldn’t have to walk past my car, and eventually I blew out a harsh, determined breath.
    For all I knew, Jagger was attempting to figure out the problem with my car again. Doubtful, but not completely improbable.
    But no matter how many times I told myself that my brother was there, I knew better. I knew who was standing behind that hood. And just the thought of seeing him made my stomach clench and my body tremble.
    I pulled Jagger’s car behind mine and shut it off. With another deep breath in, I stepped out and walked toward the sound of my son’s animated voice. Each step felt weighed down and harder than the one before it.
    When his voice wove between Keith’s words, I faltered.
    This was the problem with Thatch. There were no strangers in this town. Everyone knew everyone else’s business. And there was nowhere to hide.
    Shops closed down if the owners wanted to go spend time on the lake, and businesses made house calls.
    Like the auto repair shop: Danny’s Garage.
    Like the mechanics there.
    Especially when the owner’s son was Deacon Carver.
    Maybe I needed to leave. Take Keith and find a place to live somewhere outside this town. Because attempting to hide from the guy whose family practically owned Thatch was proving to be impossible.
    â€œAliens came from a spot in the sky.”
    â€œAliens!” Deacon said in a shocked voice. “Where?”
    Keith sighed. “They’re not here anymore. I’m Iron Man. I made them go back.”
    Deacon sighed dramatically. “Kid, I don’t know what the world would do without you.”
    â€œI know,” Keith said seriously. “But that’s why no one can fix Mommy’s car, not even you ! Because aliens hurted it.”
    I walked into their view