Chapter 24He was old, Mauve thought, like in his thirties or something, too old to be working at Burger Clown. Michael, his name badge read, tall, close-cropped blond hair, big muscles. He looked down at the tray on the counter between him and Mauve, and then at the piece of paper in his hand, and proceeded to read aloud.
“Cheeseburger, two large fries, a Popsi, and—”
“A salad,” Alaina said tonelessly.
He looked up.
“Right. A salad.”
“Don’t people order salads?” she asked, still without a hint of emotion.
He shrugged.
“Not here.”
“Whatever,” Mauve said, digging out a handful of ubiks and valis and dropping them on the counter.
Michael looked at the coins disdainfully.
“Can’t you pay with contactless?” he asked.
Mauve shrugged.
“We’re not all rich, Michael,” she said sourly, and
