Chapter 24: Yes

On the second Sunday in June, Wren's stone went in at the cemetery in Grove City.

The mason called the diner at six that morning to say it was set.

I said I'd come after the breakfast rush.

By nine the diner was full, and Bev was running the register with a pencil behind each ear.

I wore an apron over my good green dress.

I had worked the floor on weekends since May.

I liked being tired in a way that had nothing to do with grief.

Kip sat at the end of the counter with his eggs, in a clean shirt.

He wasn't on call.

He had told me three times that he wasn't on call.

Dalton was at the grill in a paper hat.

He turned bacon with a spatula and called "Order up" in a voice that was entirely his own.

I was refilling a coffee at table six when I heard the crash.

An old man in a feed-store cap had gone down between two booths.

His plate was on the floor, and one hand was at his throat.

His face was turning dark.

"Dad!" a woman screamed.

I moved.

I got three steps.

Behind me, a spatula hit the grill with a clang.

Dalton was already out from behind the counter with the phone to his ear.

"Bev's Diner, Broadway, Grove City," he said. "A man is choking, not breathing.