The Cup She Left Behind

Chapter 1: The Cup She Left Behind

The notice appeared in the window of Bell’s Diner on a rainy Monday morning.

It was written in blue marker on the back of an old paper menu.

After forty-three years, we will be closing on Sunday. Thank you for sitting with us.

The last sentence was underlined twice.

By noon, the rain had softened the paper around the edges. The ink in the word *sitting* had begun to bleed, sending a thin blue line toward the bottom of the glass.

Leah saw the notice from across the street.

She had been carrying a bag of oranges and a loaf of bread she did not need. For several seconds, she stood beneath the striped awning of the pharmacy, watching the diner window fog and clear as people moved inside.

She had not entered Bell’s in almost nine years.

Still, she remembered the small brass bell above the door. She remembered the red vinyl booths, each one split along the seams and repaired with silver tape. She remembered the smell of coffee, fried onions, and lemon disinfectant.

Most of all, she remembered Booth Six.