“Sometimes there are days when I think death is an answer.” She’d never said those words aloud to anyone, but she felt a connection to the subdued man sitting next to her. This veteran who kept to himself had no idea how much alike they were.

“Why are you nice to me?”

Lane’s heart ached. “Because you’re my friend, Miguel. When a friend is hurting or in trouble, you help them. You take care of them.”

“I’m a bad person. I’ve done bad things.”

She swallowed. “Miguel, we’ve all done bad things, but—”

Two bright lights lit up the dark night around them. A truck stopped and the driver got out.

“Lane? Miguel?”

Lane shielded her eyes from the headlights. It was Harley.

“Dottie called.” Harley’s left hand was wrapped in white bandages. “Said I should come take Miguel home.”

“Did you just get out of the hospital? You should be resting.”

“It’s no big deal. Besides, Dot said there’s a very anxious deputy waiting inside for you.”

Charlie, right. It was probably better for Harley to take Miguel home to avoid any further confrontations. She helped Miguel to the truck.

Harley tilted his head. “He did that to you?”

Lane’s hand instinctively went to the sore on her cheek. “It was an accident.”

“Hmm.” Harley’s expression matched the feeling in her gut. Something wasn’t right with their friend. “I’ll get him home.”

“Thanks, Harley.”

“Sure thing, doll.” Harley glanced past her. Charlie stood on the porch. Watching. “Now, why don’t you go reassure that anxious fella?”

Lane reached into the truck and put a hand on Miguel’s shoulder. He didn’t flinch this time. He looked at her with clarity in his eyes that wasn’t there before. Then a flicker of pain or guilt passed through them before his lip quivered slightly.

“I’m sorry.”

“Miguel, you have nothing to apologize for. It was an accident.” Miguel dropped his gaze to his hands and said nothing. “Tomorrow I’m going to bring you some muffins or cookies, okay?”

There was no response. Miguel had retreated back into himself. Lane said goodbye to him and thanked Harley again before watching them pull out of the parking lot.

Charlie came up behind her holding an ice pack. “I brought ice. Are you okay?”

“Me? Yeah, I’m okay.” She stared after the cloud of dust from Harley’s truck. “I just hope he is.”

“Does he come in here a lot?”

“Miguel’s a regular.” She tried to read Charlie’s tone. Was it curious or concerned? “He’s not normally like that.”

“Seems like he’s having a rough night.”

Heat radiated from her cheek. “He’s not the only one.”