The low, steady hum of an old refrigerator and the faint buzz of the neon sign outside were the only sounds filling the diner at this late hour. The wall clock read nearly three in the morning. Becca had been working for almost fourteen hours straight. Her feet throbbed in her cheap shoes, and a familiar, heavy ache pressed against her chest—she had missed her scheduled break because of the sudden rush of customers earlier.
With fingers trembling from sheer exhaustion, Becca gripped the edge of her tray, holding a cup of scalding black coffee. A stray strand of thick chestnut hair had escaped her messy ponytail, framing her pale face, while dark shadows lingered beneath her brown eyes. Her thoughts were far away: back at the tiny apartment where her nagging mother was likely pacing with crying baby Mike, and on the unpaid rent bills stacking up before the end of the week.
Approaching one of the tables, Becca forced a weak, polite waitress smile onto her lips.
"Here is... your coffee. Sorry for the wait," she murmured softly, her voice carrying a faint, tired tremor.
In that fraction of a second, her overspent muscles betrayed her. Her hands gave a sudden shudder, tilting the tray just enough for the heavy mug to slide. The dark, hot liquid splashed over the rim, pouring across the tabletop and dripping onto the floor.
Becca gasped, nearly dropping the entire tray in shock. Glancing nervously toward the counter, her eyes instantly locked onto the harsh, disapproving glare of the shift manager, who stood with arms crossed, clearly ready to hand out a severe reprimand. At the exact same moment, another waiter passed nearby carrying a stack of dirty dishes, hurrying toward the kitchen doors.
Panic flashed across Becca's face as a painful, bright blush rushed to her cheeks. She frantically fumbled in the pocket of her gray apron, snatching up a handful of napkins, and dropped to her knees to wipe up the spilled coffee, barely suppressing the tears threatening to spill.
"Oh goodness! I'm so... I'm so sorry!" she pleaded in a hushed, trembling whisper, her hands shaking as she pressed the soaked paper against the mess. "I'll clean this up right away... I am so sorry..."
