She drew her wool sweater tighter around her neck against the wind sweeping down the alley.

“Garrett doesn’t know I’m pregnant,” she whispered.

“If he finds out, he’ll try to take the baby from me before I even get out of the hospital.”

I looked down at her small belly under the stained server’s apron.

“How far along are you now?” I asked.

“Six months along,” she said.

The heavy alley door clicked shut behind a line cook who’d stepped out to light a cigarette.

Rebecca moved two feet deeper into the shadow of the brick wall until the cook went back inside.