Dr. Nasele.

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Now back to the story.

I first met Malcolm about a year ago.

It was just after 10 p.m.

When the scuffed bell above the door clanged.

My diner, Grandma's kitchen, had just closed.

I could remember flipping the open sign to closed.

But it was unusual for me to forget to lock the door.

It was out on the edge of town without much going on.

So I was never too concerned someone was going to walk in and rob the place.

I had been in the kitchen washing dishes when I heard the bell.

A scraping noise echoed through the empty diner.

Someone pulled one of the stools away from the old Formica counter.

I sighed deeply.

It wasn't the late comers fault that I forgot to lock the door, but they could have read

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