The boys tensed up, expecting a catch. Dan asked what the price was. Eleanor looked them in the eye and told them: “No stealing. Not from me, not from anyone.” She explained that hunger was no excuse for losing your character.
Matt nodded quickly, promising they were honest. Dan grumbled that people blamed them for everything just because they were poor. Eleanor assured them that at her counter, a person’s word was the only currency that mattered.
As Gabe stood up to leave, his collar shifted. A thin, tarnished chain caught the light. Eleanor’s eyes narrowed. It was a small metal pendant with a very specific design: three interconnected stars. She froze. She had seen that logo before, and it wasn’t on a cheap trinket.
It was a high-end family crest, something you’d see on a corporate letterhead or a luxury estate. She asked Gabe where he got it. He clutched it to his chest, saying it had been his since he was a baby.
His brothers stepped closer, guarding him. Matt pulled out an identical chain, and Dan did the same. Three identical pendants. Eleanor’s mind raced. She remembered a news story from years ago—a wealthy family from the city, a tragic accident, and three missing heirs. The reward had been huge, but the trail had gone cold.
Dan noticed her expression and asked what was wrong. She kept her voice steady, saying it was just a nice necklace. But Gabe admitted the pendant reminded him of a woman’s voice singing, and Matt mentioned the smell of expensive soap. Dan remembered a set of massive iron gates.
The pieces were falling into place, and they didn’t fit the life of a bridge-dweller. Eleanor looked around nervously. The street looked the same, but the world felt dangerous now. If these boys were who she thought they were, someone might have a reason for them to stay “lost.” She leaned in and whispered.
She told them to forget the bridge. She insisted they stay in the small shed behind her diner for the night, where she could keep an eye on them. The boys looked at her with a mix of fear and relief. Gabe asked who would want to hurt them.
Eleanor gripped her spatula like a shield. She told them she didn’t know yet, but she was going to find out. That night, her little diner became a fortress. The boys huddled together in the back, finally sleeping in a place that didn’t smell like damp concrete. Eleanor stayed up late, watching the shadows and thinking about the three stars.
