Evelyn's POV
The sounds of dishes and the hum of voices filled the small Midtown diner, but to Evelyn Carter, the sounds faded into the background noise. She stood behind the counter in her faded uniform, forcing a polite smile as she filled a customer's coffee cup. Her hands aches from hours of nonstop work, her feet screamed inside cheap sneakers, and the clock above the kitchen door seemed seemed deliberately slow, mocking her with every slow tick.
It had been like this for weeks. Double shifts, no rest, no break. Work was the only way to keep the collectors at bay, even if it meant she barely had to rest.
“Evelyn, table five is complaining again”, Carmen called out from across the room, he'd dark curls bouncing as she moved between tables with her usual sass. “Something about the
