Destiny's Edge

Interview

The interview went smoothly. Grace and Elsa both met the restaurant’s hiring requirements.

“Well, you’re both quite suitable,” Tom said. “Whether it’s handling the cleaning equipment in the kitchen or demonstrating the necessary skills for a server, you’ve both passed. That actually puts me in a bit of a bind.”

He paused, thinking for a moment, then continued, “One last question, ladies. Why did you choose to apply at my restaurant?”

He raised an eyebrow, his voice growing a touch sharper. “And please—don’t give me those hollow answers like ‘I love the atmosphere here’ or ‘I just knew this was the right place for me.’ I want the truth.”

“My husband’s leg… it’s broken,” Elsa choked out. “He had health insurance, but the company keeps stalling, refusing to cover the costs. Now the hospital has issued its final notice, and our savings are completely gone. I have to earn money!”

She could no longer hold back her sorrow. Tears streamed down her face.

Tom nodded slowly. “I understand. Damn those insurance companies—they’re worse than vampires.” Then he turned to Grace, his gaze shifting to the pale little girl clinging quietly to her mother’s back. “And you, Ms. Grace? What’s your reason? What made you come here—child in tow—to apply for this job?”

Grace fell silent.

She lowered her eyes and looked at her daughter. Her treasure. Her everything.

Their lives were equally burdened—both faced the same cruel reality. Crippling medical expenses loomed over them like a mountain, threatening to crush everyone beneath its weight.

But there was only one server position. The other would have to settle for dishwashing. And everyone knew: servers earned significantly more than dishwashers.

Right now, for the sake of their families, they both needed the better-paying job. More money meant a greater chance to save their loved ones—perhaps the only chance.

“I need to save my child,” Grace said quietly.

“A simple reason,” Tom murmured, “from a remarkable mother.”

His nose twitched again. His body gave a slight, involuntary shudder, as if reacting to an unseen allergen.

Tom fell silent. His furrowed brow and conflicted expression made it clear—he was struggling with the decision. The restaurant was quiet, heavy with tension. Tom, Grace, and Elsa sat at the table, all waiting for his final verdict.

Then suddenly, Grace broke the silence.

“Mr. Tom, I have a question... Earlier you mentioned that dishwashers are paid based on the number of dishes cleaned, not by the hour. Is that correct?”

“Yes,” Tom replied. “Let me clarify. In my diner, we use only five types of dishes. Each type has a fixed cleaning rate. So, a dishwasher’s pay is based entirely on how many dishes they wash.”

“I see. In that case, I’d prefer to take the dishwashing job,” Grace said, pressing her lips together with quiet determination.

“You’re sure?” Tom looked at her, surprised. “Normally, servers earn more, and dishwashing isn't exactly easy work.”

"Yes, I'm sure." Grace looked down at her child.

Being a server wouldn’t allow her to keep her daughter by her side during shifts. And the wage from a single waitressing job wouldn’t be enough to save her little girl. But dishwashing—though grueling—might offer her the flexibility to take on more jobs. More hours. More money.

And maybe... maybe this choice could save another family from falling apart.

Grace glanced at Elsa, who had gone quiet from shock.

“Oh God! Thank you—thank you so much,” Elsa suddenly cried out, rushing forward to embrace Grace tightly. Her voice trembled, her words spilling over themselves in a rush of gratitude. “Your kindness is the only light I’ve seen in weeks.”

Grace shook her head and offered a calm, quiet smile. “There’s no need to thank me. The server job doesn’t suit my situation. You earned it on your own—through your words, your effort, your strength.”

“Congratulations to both of you,” Tom spoke up with renewed energy. “You’ve both passed the interview. If there are no objections, I’d be glad to have you start this afternoon.”

His voice was bright, almost relieved.

But to Grace, there was something deeply unsettling in Tom’s eyes—something that flickered just beneath the surface. A strange light: hunger, greed… maybe even bloodlust. For a fleeting second, it felt as if he wanted to devour her whole. Instinctively, Grace stepped back, pulling her daughter closer.

Noticing her reaction, Tom’s trembling seemed to subside. He pressed a hand firmly over his nose and muttered, “Sorry—I’m not feeling well. Please wait here a moment.”

Without waiting for a reply, he turned and quickly walked away. All Grace caught was the sight of his broad, muscular back—like a cliff of sinew and strength disappearing into the kitchen.

“That was… strange,” Grace murmured, still shaken. What was that look just now? What was wrong with him?

“A handsome, charismatic boss, don’t you think?” Elsa chuckled, brushing off Grace’s concern. “And clearly interested in you. Who knows… maybe there’s a little romance on the horizon?”

Unlike Grace, Elsa hadn’t noticed the shift in Tom’s demeanor. Her attention had been entirely captured by his good looks and charm. Grace, however, couldn’t shake the sense of unease creeping along her spine.