How Four Hundred Dollars on a Lancaster Diner Table Changed One Christmas Eve
“That sedan hasn’t turned over once since Christmas Eve,” Evelyn said.
“I saw her out there at six this morning scraping ice off with a plastic credit card.”
Nathaniel looked toward the back row of parking spaces, where exhaust from the highway blew gray clouds across the frozen gravel.
“Is the child with her?” Nathaniel asked.
“She has the little girl bundled up in two coats,” Evelyn said.
“They sit in the back seat until the diner lights come on.”
Evelyn straightened her apron, her eyes narrowing as she looked at Nathaniel’s heavy winter boots.
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