Walking into Mc-Knight Seafood Restaurant felt like walking on sharp tongs.
Every step hurt.
The glass revolving door turned slowly, as if mocking how hesitant she was to enter.
Cold air hit her cheeks instantly.
Her eyes watered.
The tears did not wait for permission.
One slipped down her cheek and landed on the curve of her belly.
Her hand moved automatically to her stomach.
Her baby.
Her consequence.
Her responsibility.
The uniform hugged her body too tightly, especially around her bump.
On her back, bold white letters screamed louder than her heartbeat:
Mc-Knight Seafood Restaurant — STAFF
A label.
Not an identity.
The daughter of the wealthy Dary family, now reduced to this uniform.
Serving plates instead of being served.
Her chest tightened.
She blinked rapidly, bu
