"Why?"
Daniel shrugged.
"They were hungry."
Samuel's eyes became strangely emotional.
"My granddaughter has told me about you."
Daniel shook his head.
"I don't understand."
"Maria didn't tell you who she was."
"No."
"Good."
Samuel pulled out a chair.
He sat.
"Because if you had known, you might have treated her differently."
Daniel stared.
"What happened to her?"
Samuel's face hardened.
"My daughter died five months ago."
Silence filled the diner.
"Maria was her only child."
Daniel slowly understood.
"She lost her husband?"
"Her husband abandoned them."
Samuel's jaw tightened.
"Then she lost her apartment."
Daniel looked down.
"She didn't ask for money."
"I know."
"She didn't tell me anything."
"I know."
Samuel looked around the diner.
"My granddaughter said this was the first place someone treated them like human beings."
Daniel looked away.
Samuel continued.
"That's why I came."
Robert interrupted.
"Mr. Bennett, regardless of your relationship with the family, the foreclosure remains valid."
Samuel turned.
"Does it?"
Robert froze.
Samuel pointed to the paperwork.
"The bank claims the outstanding balance is $8,400."
"Correct."
"I purchased the note."
Robert nodded.
"Then you know the amount."
"I do."
Samuel smiled.
"I also know the original balance."
Daniel looked between them.
"What?"
Samuel slid another document across the counter.
"The original loan was $62,000."
Daniel stared.
"Yes."
"But your bank recorded the balance as $8,400."
Daniel nodded.
"That's what they told me."
Samuel tapped the paper.
"The actual outstanding balance is $0."
Robert's face turned white.
"What?"
"The loan was paid in full eighteen months ago."
Silence.
Daniel stared at the document.
Samuel leaned back.
"Someone has been trying to take this diner."
Robert stepped backward.
"That's impossible."
Samuel smiled.
"Then I suggest you find out who."
Outside, the eight black SUVs remained motionless.
And for the first time in months, Daniel felt something he had almost forgotten.
Hope.
The next hour became chaos.
Robert called his office.
His office called the bank.
The bank called its legal department.
Nobody could explain the payment.
Daniel sat at the counter while Samuel Bennett reviewed documents.
Eventually, Samuel looked up.
"Your father made the final payment."
Daniel frowned.
"My father?"
"Yes."
"My father died twelve years ago."
"I know."
Daniel stared at the receipt.
A cashier's check.
$8,731.40.
Paid eighteen months after his father's death.
Daniel shook his head.
"My father couldn't have paid this."
"He didn't."