"So, you really must like Flynn's music to come all the way from... Michigan was it?"
The quieter one clasped her hands around the hot cup and nodded while she glanced nervously for support from her more extroverted friend beside her.
"Yeah, I've followed you from day one," she said to Flynn, "but there's been hardly any news out there about you anymore. So, we figured we'd come and find out what was going on for ourselves."
"Don't you think your parents will be worried about you?" Flynn asked, sounding anxious for them.
"Nah, my Mom's a crack head, and I never knew my dad. Helen's parents died when she was seven."
"You're in the care system?"
"Yeah, and we know your story, it gives us hope for ourselves in a few years."
Flynn's face softened, "Jesus, you're runaways? People will be sick with worry, honey, you can't just pick up and do what you both did today."
"Yesterday," the quieter one mumbled.