THE MIDNIGHT RECEIPTS

Six Months Later.

The bell over Millie’s Diner chimed at 8:00 A.M.

The diner had been completely renovated. The cracked vinyl booths were replaced with pristine leather. The shattered windows were now reinforced, gleaming glass. Rita was in the back, pulling a perfectly golden apple pie from a brand-new, state-of-the-art commercial oven.

Hannah wiped the clean laminate counter, smiling as the morning sun warmed the room.

The door opened.

Julian walked in. He wasn't wearing a dark, ominous coat, and there was no exhaustion in his eyes. He wore a crisp, casual sweater, and he looked rested, healthy, and entirely at peace.

In his arms, Leo—now walking, babbling, and aggressively holding a fresh toy truck—beamed at the sight of the diner.

"Da-da! Pie!" Leo demanded.

"You heard the boss," Julian smiled, setting the boy down so he could waddle safely behind the counter toward Hannah.

Hannah scooped Leo up, kissing his chubby cheek, before looking up at Julian. "You're early today. The syndicate running smoothly without you?"

"I wouldn't know," Julian said softly, sitting at the counter and reaching across to take Hannah's hand. "I stepped down. Handed the keys to the commission. I'm just a civilian now."

Hannah's breath caught. She looked at the man who had torn down an empire to protect his son, and who had walked away from it all to be with her.

"Coffee?" she asked, her eyes shining.

"Just you," Julian smiled.