Chapter 38: Anastasia

The smell of burnt coffee beans, grease, and old vegetable shortening hangs in the air of the Crossroads Diner. It is a narrow, flat-roofed building two miles south of St. Jude Academy, positioned far enough from the residential avenues to avoid the morning rush of school vehicles. The booths are lined with dark red vinyl that has small, jagged tears along the piping, exposing the yellow foam padding underneath. The yellow-tinted laminate on the tables is worn down to the brown particle board at the edges where thousands of elbows have rested.

I sit with my back against the corner of the last booth, my hands wrapped...