Didi sat down in a booth, trying to stay calm. It was a diner. People came into diners, sooner or later.

But there was no comforting scent of coffee and pie in the air, no chatter from the kitchen, nothing but static on the radio when she turned it on.

Eventually she wandered far enough into the kitchen to find a few rusted cans with faded labels. She filled her arms with them, realizing the supplies might be important.