Marcus began keeping a large notebook behind the counter. He logged every interruption, every telephone call, every missing delivery, and every name a worker was willing to provide. Alicia had told him to distinguish facts from theories. He followed that advice even when the connections seemed obvious, writing "unverified service request" instead of "Derek sabotage" until there was evidence proving who had made it.
Some days that discipline felt harder than any workout he had endured. He could be certain of a thing and still be unable to prove it. Certainty did not reimburse spoiled milk or repay Maria for a meal she could no longer afford. The notebook grew thicker while the balance in his business account shrank.
His vegetable distributor, a man named Calvin Price who had supplied him for fourteen years, called one morning to apologize for a canceled delivery. Calvin sounded embarrassed and frightened. "Somebody stopped one of my drivers outside the warehouse," he said. "Told him trucks delivering to Peach Street might start having problems. I can't put my people in that kind of danger."
"Did they say who sent them?"
"No. And I didn't ask."
"You could report it."
Calvin lowered his voice. "I've got five drivers and three of them have young kids. You know I respect you, Marcus. I just can't take chances with their safety."
Marcus thanked him for calling. He did not say that his own customers had young kids or that a canceled vegetable delivery meant he would be stretching canned goods across the next week's meals. Calvin already sounded as though he expected to be hated. Marcus had no appetite for giving him that burden as well.
The meat supplier withdrew next, followed by a dairy company and a business that sold paper containers. The explanations changed, but each ended with a refusal to send another truck. Marcus rented a small van for two days and bought what he could from wholesale markets, carrying boxes himself until his shoulder began to ache. The added mileage and retail prices made every meal more expensive to prepare than to sell.
Then emergency calls began interrupting service. Firefighters arrived twice in one week because an anonymous caller had reported a gas leak. They did not find one, but the restaurant emptied while they checked the building. A third alarm sent customers onto the sidewalk during a downpour, and several did not come back when Marcus reopened. The firefighters were courteous and increasingly apologetic, yet their trucks remained a frightening advertisement outside his door.
Health inspectors followed, dispatched on fresh complaints about sanitation and refrigeration. Marcus showed them his temperature logs, cleaning schedule, pest-control contract, and a refrigerator thermometer that recorded readings continuously. The inspectors found minor matters to correct, but nothing resembling the disasters depicted in Derek's original folder. One young inspector studied the initial notices and said quietly, "I don't recognize this format. Keep these documents."