Phillip opened the door to the diner like a gentleman. You nodded and stepped inside, the smell of food on your nose, old photographs on the walls, cowboy hats, many of them tattered, hanging across the bar. Graves patted you on the shoulder, drawing your attention, and pointed to a table in the far corner of the diner.

"Come on, let's get the best seat. I used to sit there when I was younger with my friends."