Chapter 52

• Celeste’s POV
• I could feel the tension in the air before I even stepped out of the back door. The usual cacophony of insults and snide laughter was waiting for me, like predators circling. My stomach didn’t tighten—not anymore. I had learned long ago that fear was a luxury I couldn’t afford. I squared my shoulders, adjusted the apron I wore over my uniform, and followed my boss into the main hall of the restaurant.
• These people were relentless. Every day for the past few days, they had come, ordered massive feasts, and left chaos behind. Hair in the soup, bugs in the salad—they never missed a detail. And no apology, no compensation from the staff, satisfied them. Only my presence as the one who had touched every plate, washed every dish, seemed to placate them.