Harper
“Say, you got in pretty late last night, where did you go?” Dylan is fixing his eyes on me and I’m telling you, it is as if he knows I was out with his daddy.
“Harper, your tables are waiting,” Mo calls out from behind me.
“Er, right. Got it, Mo. Are the platters ready yet?” Mo’s diner is one of the busiest here in our small town and I’ve worked a few shifts a night here for the last couple of years. I don’t earn a bucket load, but the tips are good and it’s gone towards putting food on the table for my sister and I more than once. Especially when my momma had spent her meagre benefits on drugs or drink.
Mo nods and hands me the plates from the serving hatch. It’s one of those diners where everyone can see in behind the counter to the kitchen with all its new and shiny, stainl
