At 2 a.m., I was grocery shopping when I noticed two men—the cashier and another—watching me. On my way home, the second man followed, asking, “Why so fast?” A scream broke the night, and the cashier came running toward me, bleeding, shouting not to go with him. The follower claimed innocence; the cashier said he’d been banned for harassing women. Shaken, I returned to the store with the cashier—Reggie—who explained he’d chased me to protect me.
Over time, I visited often, learning about his dream of opening a quiet, safe bookstore café. We became friends. Weeks later, the same man reappeared, watching me. Reggie called his police cousin, and soon a patrol car began monitoring the store. Then Reggie vanished—until I learned he’d been hospitalized after the man attacked him at home. He’d been followed for days but stayed silent to spare me guilt.
The man was arrested. Reggie said, “Some people are drawn to the light, and some try to destroy it. That doesn’t mean we stop being light.” A year later, I helped him open his café, Chapter One. It became a warm, welcoming place filled with books, plants, and kindness.
That night could have ended in tragedy, but instead, it brought healing, purpose, and a lifelong friendship. Sometimes the darkest moments lead to the safest places.
