Chapter 4
8:45 a.m.
I need a job—a real job. Hannah entered the bar where she used to have breakfast and waved at the only friend—if she could call an acquaintance a friend—she had made in all those years. “Good morning, Lily.”
“Hey, Hannah.” The waitress waved back. “Are you having the usual?”
“Perhaps, later,” Hannah answered as she sat at a table in the corner and unfolded the previous day’s newspaper, running her palm over it to make it lie flat so she could search through the ads again. I must have missed something.
“On the house,” said Lily, putting a steamy mug and a slice of sourdough toast in front of Hannah.
“Lily, you shouldn’t—”
“The old miser isn’t going to know. And if he finds out, I’ll shove the two bucks up his ass along with my resignation.”
Hannah giggled. “If yo
