“The meatloaf and coffee come to nineteen dollars, Nathaniel,” she said.

“The service was good, Evelyn,” Nathaniel said, standing up and buttoning his heavy wool overcoat.

“That’s eighty-one dollars extra,” she said.

“Keep the change for the evening shift,” Nathaniel said.

He walked out through the double glass doors before she could reach for the register drawer.

By seven o’clock that evening, the stone house in Strasburg was completely quiet except for the low hum of the furnace in the basement.

Nathaniel sat in his brown leather armchair by the unlit fireplace, listening to the winter wind rustle through the hemlocks outside.