The next evening, just before the rush hour, Sarah was busy serving a couple sitting near the glass window when the door opened quietly.
The cool breeze from outside brushed her face, but it wasn’t the wind that made her pause.
It was her — the same old woman from yesterday.
Sarah froze mid-step, her heart jumping. The tray in her hand almost slipped. “Oh no,” she muttered under her breath, quickly dropping the customer’s bill at their table.
The woman looked even more frail than before, her old coat hanging loosely over her shoulders, her eyes sunken with hunger.
She walked straight towards Sarah, her voice soft but trembling. “My dear, please… I’m hungry. Just something small.”
Sarah rushed to her side immediately, whispering, “Please, ma, you need to go. My boss is watching toda
