CHAPTER ONE<br >Annie Clark opened the door to the old-fashioned drugstore.<br >She loved the sound of the tinkling bell hanging from an ancient<br >nail at the corner of the door. For one brief second she wondered<br >if she could steal the little cluster of bells. No， better to tuck<br >tile sound into her memory bank.<br > How she loved this little store. She sniffed as she always<br >did when she entered. The smell was always tile same--Max<br >Factor powder， Chantilly perfume， and the mouthwatering<br >aroma of fleshly brewed coffee from the counter tucked in<br >between the displays of Dr. Scholl s foot products and the<br >Nature s brand vitamins.<br > She d worked here five days a week for the past six years.<br >She knew every item on every shelf as well as the price. Thanks<br >to Elmo Richardson s mother s recipe， she knew how to make<br >and serve the best tuna salad in the world to the students of<br >Boston University. On the days she served cinnamon coffee<br >and the tuna on a croissant， the lines outside the store went<br >around the block. Yes， she was going to miss this place.<br >