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Summary
"The man mutters in parts: Mark Rosario. Rosario. It echoes in your head with a characteristic roll of the tongue; certainly not a name you’re likely to hear around Altoona, you think.
'How long have you been in this shithole town, Mark Rosario?'
He chuckles. 'Aw, don’t say that. It’s a nice place. Nice people.'
Then, he clarifies: 'I’m not really from here.'
Thanks, Captain Obvious.
You grin. 'I know. Nobody who’s from here would say it’s a nice place.'
It’s just past ten o’clock as you begin to consider doing something very impulsive and probably very stupid. You blame your heart for being too damn big, and too damn sensitive to the devastating combination of unhoused loner and puppy dog eyes. The parking lot outside still sits essentially empty, as does your store, aside from the two of you.
What have you got to lose? It’s not like he could be a murderer—he doesn’t seem the type."
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in a more forgiving timeline, the adjuster never makes it to the most unsuspecting mcdonald's in Pennsylvania.