“I ate at the job site before we packed the car,” Martha said.

She kept her chin up, looking straight at the swinging kitchen doors.

“Eat your dinner when it comes.”

Nathaniel adjusted his gold watch again.

He looked down at the yellow roster in his hand.

Below the scribbled blue ballpoint line, printed in plain, clean letters, was the name Martha Miller.

He stepped toward the front register as the bell over the glass entrance chimed twice.

Brenda Whitmore pulled off her wool scarf with one sharp jerk.