As soon as the bus stopped, Vanessa jumped off without looking back. Vince hesitated, then followed from a distance.
She moved quickly through a part of the city Vince had never set foot in—tight alleyways, uneven roads, old buildings covered in peeling paint and rust. It felt like another world.
He kept his distance, just close enough to keep her in sight.
Then she turned a corner—and stopped dead.
A crowd had gathered outside a small flower shop. Shouting echoed through the street. Vince caught up, slipping to the edge of the crowd. What he saw stopped him cold.
The flower shop's front window was shattered. Pots lay broken on the ground, petals crushed beneath boots. Inside the chaos stood two figures—Vanessa's mother, Celia, and a man who could only be her father.
He was drunk, wild-eyed, and shouting.
"You whore! Where is he?! Where's that bastard you're cheating on me with?!"
Celia stood trembling, face streaked with tears. "Why are you always doing this, Dan?! Why do you keep ruining everything?!"
"Bitch, you're the one who ruined my life!" he shouted, lunging forward before two nearby men held him back.
"Dan, you're drunk," one of them said, struggling to restrain him.
"Get the fuck off me!" Dan roared.
"Someone call the police!" a woman yelled from the back.
"What did you say, bitch?!" Dan snapped, spitting in her direction.
"Stop, Dan, please!" Celia cried out.
"Mom! Dad!" Vanessa's voice cut through the noise.
The crowd turned. Her face was pale, tears already streaming.
"Vanessa," her mother whispered.
"Why do you keep doing this?!" she screamed, voice shaking. "Why do you always embarrass me like this?!"
She looked at her father, fists clenched. "Why can't you just leave us alone?! Why do you keep making everything harder?!"
Her voice cracked, her body shaking with anger and shame.
Vince stood frozen, watching it all unfold—watching her unravel in the middle of the street. And for the first time, he understood: behind all her walls, all her distance, she was someone just trying to hold everything together.
"You brat!" Dan roared, breaking free from the men holding him back. His hand shot up, ready to strike.
But Vanessa didn't move.
She stood her ground, staring directly into his eyes. Her face was wet with tears, but her expression didn't waver. She didn't flinch. She didn't beg.
She looked at him like she was done being afraid.
Dan hesitated. His hand trembled in the air, knuckles tight.
Then he scoffed. "Tch. Fuck this."
He dropped his arm, shoved his way through the crowd, and stormed off down the alley, his rage echoing off the buildings.
"Vanessa..." Celia called out softly.
Vanessa turned to her. Her voice cracked with fury. "Why, Mom?! Why can't you put a restraining order on him? Why can't you just kick him out of our life?!"
Celia's eyes welled up. "Vanessa, I'm sorry."
But sorry wasn't enough.
Vanessa turned away, brushing past her mother, walking up the street with silent tears falling like rain. No one tried to stop her. No one dared. The neighbors just watched, quiet and still. Everyone knew her story—knew Dan was a loan shark, knew his grip on the block ran deep. But knowing didn't mean they could do anything.
Vince watched too—helpless, frozen. The girl he barely knew had just unraveled in front of him, and all he could do was follow, his steps silent behind hers.
She stopped at a small convenience store tucked between rusted gates and flickering street lamps. She didn't buy anything. Just walked inside and took a seat in one of the booths, head resting on the small table like she'd done it a hundred times.
The old man behind the counter didn't say a word. He didn't need to. This wasn't new.
Vince stood at the window for a moment, watching her. Then he walked in.
He didn't speak.
He just sat down near her, pulled a banana milk from the fridge, and placed it gently on the table beside her.
It was all he had.
The only thing he could offer.
And for now... maybe it was enough.