My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
Another pause.
Then he asked:
“Do you know what Evan does with every paycheck?”
I frowned.
“He’s saving for a bike.”
Silence.
“Isn’t he?”
Mr. Alvarez exhaled.
“Ma’am, almost everything that boy has told you about that money is a lie.”
Before I could respond, I heard Evan shouting somewhere in the background.
“Please! Don’t tell my mom!”
Something crashed.
Metal hitting tile.
I shot to my feet.
“Evan?”
Mr. Alvarez came back on the line, breathing hard.
“Get here.”
“What happened?”
“Your son tried to do it again.”
The line disconnected.
I didn’t even grab my purse properly.
I took my keys and ran.
When I reached the diner, the first thing I noticed was a large metal bus tub overturned on the floor.
Plastic cups had rolled beneath tables.
A stack of plates leaned dangerously against one chair.
