FIFTY-FIVE | SEAGULL ROAD

The day passed with surprising ease after Harper left. Nick and I shot jokes back and forth, and Giles, in the kitchen, joined in whenever he could. Mae watched on fondly, chiding us gently when our insults became too barbed. The diner remained quiet, so we jived to Elvis as we wiped down tables, to Buddy Holly as we did the washing up, and to Ray Charles while we swept the floors.

When Sydney arrived, the atmosphere relaxed somewhat. She studied at Bournehurst, and only worked at the diner during the holidays; I’d been in her position up until fairly recently, so we fell into an easy conversation about the campus, the union, and the nights out. A few customers came and went, but unlike after Ben’s attack, the diner was almost entirely empty after the lunch rush, and it didn’t seem as though it would pick up for dinner.

It seemed that Sierra’s research rang true. If anything, Veronica’s death was worse than when