Chapter 5

• The nurse was gone, but I was still shaken by the news.
• “Do you want me to call a family member?” the man offered. He introduced himself as Grey Cameron.
• I shook my head, swallowing the lump in my throat. My grandfather wouldn't be pleased with the news, especially when he learned that the father had already abandoned me. He would undoubtedly come looking for my husband with a shotgun in hand. To avoid the worst-case scenario, I replied, “No, thank you… I'm fine anyway.”
• Grey's mouth opened. He looked as though he wanted to argue or ask questions, but in the end, he closed it, realizing he wasn't in a position to pry.
• “I’m going to go back to the bar,” Grey said as he rose from his seat. “I won’t be coming back. However, in case you might need my help, I'll leave you my number.” After scribbling his number on a piece of paper, he left.
• —
• The next day, I was discharged from the hospital and went back to work. I couldn't afford to slack off since I had bills to pay.
• It was a busy day, and I barely had a moment to rest as the restaurant was flooded with customers since morning.
• "Elizabeth, are you alright?" Samantha, my workmate, asked, her expression shifting to one of concern as she looked up at me.
• "I'm fine."
• "You don't look fine to me."
• I mustered a smile, hoping to hide my discomfort. "I'm just tired. It's been a busy day..."
• "I can relate," she nodded empathetically. "My feet have been in agony for hours!" she complained.
• Two of tonight's waitresses had called out sick, leaving the restaurant understaffed. That meant Sam and I had to take on their shifts.
• "Do we have a choice?" I remarked. As if on cue, a customer at the far end of the restaurant waved frantically, trying to catch our attention.
• "Jeez, I gotta go," I said, giving her an encouraging smile before snatching the menu from the counter and making my way over to the table.
• I took a deep breath and plastered on a smile before heading over to table 15. A woman in her mid-thirties with a tired expression was seated, accompanied by a young child who was fidgeting in his seat.
• "Hi there, my name is Elizabeth. What can I get you started with?" I said with a smile, trying to hide the fatigue that still lingered after I handed her the menu.
• The woman looked up at me with a grateful expression. She didn't even glance at the menu. "Sticky BBQ chicken meatballs with broccoli slaw and orange juice, please."
• "Sure thing. And for you?" I turned to the child.
• The boy looked up at me with his big brown eyes. "Can I have fried chicken and iced tea?"
• "Absolutely!"
• After I served the woman and her child, I took note of the other diners' orders and bustled around the restaurant, ensuring everyone's needs were met.
• It felt like I had fifteen tables—or more—before finally getting a well-deserved break.
• I pushed open the door to the employee lounge and couldn't help but feel a sense of relief. However, as I entered the room, an eerie silence fell upon it.
• Despite having worked at Queen's Courtyard for three years and having made a number of friends I was proud of, the degrading headlines had caused my colleagues to avoid me. I couldn't even count how many friends I had left.
• I felt the weight of several pairs of eyes, but despite the stabbing glares, I kept my head held high.
• When I opened my locker to grab my bag, a nauseating sight greeted me. A foul smell wafted out, and a pile of garbage spilled onto the floor.
• I grimaced, mortified by the mess.
• Trash.
• That's all they saw when they looked at me. I was too exhausted to muster any anger. Instead, I took a deep breath and straightened up when I finished cleaning.
• "Just another day," I muttered to myself, snatching my bag and walking away.
• After my short break, I clocked in.
• "Thanks for clocking in sooner. I'll be taking my break now," Samantha said with a hint of weariness. She then removed her apron while standing behind the counter and carefully tucked it under her arm.
• "I bought your favorite cinnamon bun. I left it in your locker."
• Samantha's whole face lit up. "Liz, are you an angel? You always seem to know when I need saving," she exclaimed before darting off to the employee lounge area.
• The foot traffic in the dining area showed no sign of dwindling, but the constant flow of guests kept my thoughts occupied for hours.
• I took a deep breath and strode to the table where a group of five was waiting.
• Following my usual routine, I summoned up a warm smile and introduced myself as I handed them the menus. I spent the next few minutes recommending our 'best-sellers' as they perused the menu.
• "Order up!" I peeked through the kitchen window upon returning to the counter.
• The head chef, Javier, turned to me with a raised eyebrow. "What do you have for us, Lizzie?"
• "Table 7 would like spaghetti carbonara, grilled salmon with vegetables, and the remaining three would like to split two pizzas—one with pepperoni and mushroom, and the other with sausage and peppers. For drinks, a pitcher of cucumber juice," I replied, holding up a notepad with the order scribbled on it.
• Javier nodded and got to work.
• While I waited for the dishes, I continued taking orders.
• Eventually, after ten minutes, the food for table 7 was ready. I swiftly gathered the plates, ensuring that each dish was placed securely on my food trolley, and made my way to the table. With a warm smile, I delivered the dishes to the guests and wished them a delightful meal.
• As I bustled around the restaurant, time seemed to fly by.
• "Elizabeth, could you please attend to the guest on the terrace?"
• I turned around to see Mrs. Lee, my forty-five-year-old manager, stepping out of the kitchen. She's one of the few who remained kind and respectful to me despite everything.
• "Sure, Mrs. Lee. I'll be on my way," I replied with a smile, grabbing the menu.
• I approached the glass door, reached out to grasp the handle, and pulled it toward me with ease.
• I turned towards the man seated at the table, who I had just noticed was staring at me for the first time. Ho
• wever, as soon as I caught a glimpse of his face, my smile faded away.
• "Sit down," Crimson ordered.