Ember was different at night when you weren’t working.
The lights were softer, golden, casting a warm glow across the wooden tables. The low hum of conversation blended with the clinking of glasses and the occasional burst of laughter from a nearby booth. The smell of garlic butter, seared steak, and fresh herbs drifted through the air, comforting and familiar.
Kya and Sadie sat near the window, where the city lights spilled in like scattered stars. Tonight wasn’t about shifts or stress — just two friends sharing a meal.
Sadie took one look at Kya and frowned. “Okay. Spill. You’ve been poking that mashed potato like it owes you money.”
Kya sighed, pushing her fork aside. “It’s nothing.”
“Kya.” Sadie leaned forward. “You’re a terrible liar. What’s wrong?”
Kya hesitated, then exhaled.
