Colleen Miller The wind was moving that afternoon in Biddeford, sharp enough to lift the last of October’s leaves and send them tapping against the tall windows of The Lincoln. Downstairs, the team at Batson River had started to hang Christmas lights, strings of gold flickering over the clink of glassware. Every terminal in sight ran on Toast. At Batson River, at Spinning Jenny’s, even in the cafe where we sat, the same platform powered orders, payments, takeout, and delivery