THE BILL WAS A WARNING

I was on a date. The bill came, and the waitress looked at my date and said, “Sir, your card was declined.”

He went pale.

As we stepped outside, she grabbed my arm and whispered, “I lied.”

Then she slipped the receipt into my hand.

I turned it over. Scrawled in frantic handwriting were just two words:
BE CAREFUL.

I froze. My date—he said his name was Deacon—was already ahead, scrolling his phone like nothing had happened.

“You okay?” he asked, glancing back.