Neon light spills across wet asphalt, turning the empty street into a mirror of blurred colors. The diner sits at the edge of the city, the kind of place that only comes alive after midnight.

Through the fogged windows, a handful of figures sit scattered across vinyl booths. A cook wiping down the grill. A waitress refilling coffee for the third time. An old man nursing a beer at the counter.

In the corner booth, two men sit across from each other. One of them hasn't touched his coffee.

The bell above the door chimes.

Through the rain streaking down the glass, the red and blue lights appear.