When a Scruffy Little Dog Refused to Let an Old Woman Disappear

a plastic sandwich bag to keep it dry.

I pulled it out. The diner was so quiet you could hear the hum of the refrigerator.

The handwriting was worse than usual—jagged and faint.

“Dear Linda, My legs won’t work today. The doctor says it’s time to stay in bed. I was so afraid to disappear, to leave my booth empty. But Barnaby was pacing by the door. He continue reading …