Questioning reality was something Igraine had done so many times she should have been more comfortable with it. Instead, she stared at the empty bench where Dolly had been sitting. Had her life become more complicated? Was there any way she could put her life together? Some way she could feel more like her old self, without causing more harm?

The waiter arrived and set down Dolly’s order and then Igraine’s, saying, “Here’s your Cloudy Morning with Oinks-ies on the side.”

Igraine blinked out of her confusion and looked up at him.

He was waiting with his pad out and his pen ready. “Is there there was anything else you’ll be needing?”

“No thanks, two meals is plenty for me.”

The comment flew over his head, and he replied with a chipper, “Okay then, have a fantastic day!” and tore the bill from the pad and placed it on the table.

She picked it up and mumbled, “Sunshine and freaking rainbows.”

The bill was snatched out of her hand, and Dolly slid back into her vacant spot.

On instinct, Igraine started to object, but Dolly beat her to the punch whispering, “I’ve got that.”

Dolly slouched down, trying to keep her big hair below the booth’s tall back. Then she added, “But first I need you to do me a favor.”

Igraine raised her eyebrows, but otherwise held still.

“A man is going to come in here—”

The bell above the door jingled and Dolly shook her head, whispering, “Don’t look.”

But Dolly’s earlier antics lost her credibility with Igraine, who ignored the command.

In the doorway was a muscular man with a short untrimmed beard, and he was about as angry as a hungry bear whose meal had been stolen. If Dolly hadn’t suddenly reappeared, Igraine would have assumed that the man’s anger was caused by his uncontrollable sweating. But that was also because he was wearing an outfit and layers that were out of season for this time of year.

“Is it him?” Dolly whispered.

Igraine shrugged her shoulders as if to say, “How should I know?” but then lifted the empty coffee cup to her lips and took a pretend sip, saying, “I think so.”

Dolly winced.

The man paced over towards them. His heavy boots sounded like a slow-pounding hammer.

Dolly picked now of all times to brief Igraine. “His name is Burton Maurer”.

He stopped at the table across from their booth where a man and a woman were enjoying their coffee. They were old enough not to be mistaken for children but not old enough to have any gray strands of hair.

Burton asked the man, “Is this chair taken?” It took a moment for the pair to realize that what he was really asking was, “Is your chair taken?”

The woman across from him stood up and grabbed her purse and said, “Here, you can have mine.”

Burton kept his eyes on the man and said, “That’s not the one I want.” Then he moved in closer to the stranger and said, “I want to know if anyone is using this chair.”

In a broken voice, the man said, “Fine. Take it.” He stood up, and he and his date left Bunny’s.

Burton slid the chair up to the end of Igraine and Dolly’s booth.

Igraine saw a familiar weariness in him. He hadn’t slept in days. And then she recognized that he hadn’t bathed in twice as long.

Burton slammed his fist on the table, making the coffee cups rattle and both women jump in their seats.

Igraine remained motionless as she tried to take stock of the situation. The man was clinging to a psychological edge, and letting go was becoming increasingly appealing to him. For a moment, Igraine saw a bit of her own struggles in him. But she handled hers in solitude, while he was searching for someone he could unleash his pain on. The man was going to snap. He was going to swing his fists and he wasn’t going to miss. All he needed was a reason to make him feel good during the coming rage.

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Dolly started talking her way out of the situation. “Burton Maurer! It’s been ages—”

Burton cut her off with his gruff voice, “—I said!” and then slammed his fist down again on the table.

If the disturbance had gone unnoticed by the other patrons the first time, it was unavoidable now. The man was going to make the whole place suffer if he didn’t get his way.

A few patrons rushed out the door, and some of the wait-staff walked urgently back into the kitchen. Igraine scanned the room trying to find someone calling the police, but couldn’t see it.

Dolly said immediately, “I apologize, Mr. Maurer. Is there something we can help you with?”

Igraine threw a dirty look toward Dolly. She was not warm to the “we” part of Dolly’s ploy. This man’s fuse was lit, and it would only take a few moments before everyone saw how explosive he could be. While she wanted to help Dolly get away from danger, she also didn’t want to be a human shield.

He looked at Dolly and said with a playful grin, “Watcha talking about?”

With his attention turned toward Dolly, Igraine considered the options she had to defend herself. The knife was an appealing thought, but she knew the blade might not be any sharper than the handle. The fork, however, could give her a chance to land a quick stab before bolting away.

Maybe she wouldn’t need to. Igraine’s thoughts went back to the police. Someone must be calling, or has called. They’re on their way. They’ll be here any second. Why aren’t the police here?

Dolly hadn’t answered his question, and he made it clear he wasn’t going anywhere. He picked up the fork Igraine had been staring at and stabbed one of her eggs. He lifted the runny mess off her plate and put it halfway into his mouth. He chewed as the yoke ran down his chin and over his beard.

Igraine suspected this act was his warm up. He wanted his victims good and scared before he attacked. As much as Igraine didn’t want it to work, she knew it was.

Dolly’s voice shook when she said, “My friend here was asking me about a career change.”

Igraine wondered how someone who earned her living through dishonesty could be such a terrible liar.

Burton picked up Dolly’s coffee and dumped it on Igraine’s plate dousing the last egg.

Igraine ran through the details of what was happening, preparing for what she was going to tell the police. But would they believe her? She already had one incident with them that had not gone well. They’d put more effort into convincing her she was delusional than taking her statement. But it wasn’t like every cop in the city knew about the incident. It wouldn’t matter. For the present situation the police just needed to stop the problem from escalating. Her history would have nothing to do with preventing them from intervening.

“You know what I dislike more than a lie?” Burton’s ability to be subtle was about as good as Dolly’s was to lie.

Igraine couldn’t wait for the police any longer and moved to leave the booth. Burton blocked her exit.

“Not so fast there.”

Dolly attempted to intervene. “She came to me for help. What was I supposed to do?”

“If you were smart, you would have done nothing. Even better, you could have told the truth,” he said, still blocking Igraine’s exit.

What truth? That magic exists. That curses exist. That if you start speaking the truth, no one would look at your the same. That knowing too much of the truth would change you.

Whatever truth he was referring to, it couldn’t be any of those. And the way he was on the cusp of a violent outbreak, it couldn’t be any truth she wanted to know.

Igraine said, “I know the truth. You can’t tell me what it is.”

“That’s where you’re wrong,” replied Burton who moved uncomfortably close to her, “The truth is that whatever you think you saw, it’s all in your head. And the thing about the truth is, anyone can speak it.”

A virtue held by some of history’s most dangerous sociopaths.

Dolly replied, “Burton, what’s it going to take for you to let us walk out of here?”

Burton did not break the lock he had on Igraine’s eyes.

“How much cash you carrying?”

Dolly’s face had long since lost its cheerfulness, and now it lost its optimism.

“Burton, I have to pay my rent.” It was an appeal to humanity that couldn’t have gone more wrong.

His eyes lit up. Rent wasn’t cheap in the city. The prospect of a windfall added some energy to his voice, but did not soften his mood. He replied, “You know the rules. If you want to keep your money, then find a better way to earn a living. One that doesn’t have so many… hazards.”

Igraine was witnessing a robbery. As much as Dolly had rubbed her the wrong way in the short time she’d known her, she didn’t deserve to be robbed in broad daylight.

As Dolly reached into her purse, Igraine blurted out, “Don’t. He can’t hurt us in front of all these people.”

Burton laughed, and Dolly gave Igraine a disappointed gaze. He motioned for Dolly to continue to retrieve the cash from her purse.

“Why don’t you educate your friend, Dolly.”

“Igraine, no one will stop him, and no one corroborate our—”

He slammed his fist again.

“—your story.”

“But the police?” asked Igraine.

Burton replied, “They’re not coming.”

“That’s insane, Why?” She still didn’t understand the amount of danger she was in.

Burton answered, “Because you’re the one who’s insane. Talking about ghosts and magic as if all that make-believe garbage were real.”

Igraine did not appreciate that her life, as disturbed as it had been, was considered garbage by anyone.

“Here’s everything, Burton.” Dolly slammed a stack of cash on the table. At least three months’ worth of rent was held together by a few well-worn rubber bands.

“Well,” he said with a smile. “It’s my lucky day.” Then he turned to Igraine, the egg yolk still dripping from his face, and said, “Remember, I saved you from being swindled from this con artist.”

Dolly’s phone vibrated again. He rolled his eyes and then signaled for her to get up, as his attention was now captured on counting his prize money. Before Igraine knew what had happened, Dolly had stood up and pulled her along, and out the door of Bunny’s Bright & Right Breakfast Café.