The shift was supposed to end quietly.
No screaming customers. No broken glasses. No one throwing anything this time.
Just a slow, aching crawl toward midnight, the kind of shift where Lily could almost forget how empty everything felt.
She didn't expect things to go right anymore. But she still didn't expect this.
The manager, his name was Rob, had always hovered too close.
Too many smiles that didn't reach his eyes. Too many questions that lingered just past the line of appropriate.
At first, she'd told herself it was harmless. Just awkward. Just uncomfortable.
Tonight, it wasn't harmless.
It was the kind of moment you don't forget.
The kind that leaves you frozen heart hammering in your ribs, spine locked in place, voice trapped behind your teeth.
It started in the back hallway of the diner, the swinging kitchen door barely thudding shut behind her.
She had just finished clearing off a booth when he cornered her.
"You work hard, you know that?" he said, voice low. "I could move you up. Give you the better hours."
She didn't respond. Just kept wiping her hands on her apron, pretending not to notice the way he was standing too close, the way his eyes didn't move from her mouth.
Then came the part that cracked the air open, his hand on her arm, his voice curling too warmly.
"I take care of my girls."
Lily pulled back like she'd touched fire.
"No," she said, quietly but firmly.
He smiled like she'd said yes.
"I didn't mean" she tried again, backing up, "I'm not….just let me go back to work."
He stepped closer. And something in her snapped.
"Don't touch me," she said, louder this time. "Don't talk to me like that. I'm not one of your girls. I'm here to work. Not to be cornered in hallways like some kind of"
She didn't finish because he raised his voice then.
Accused her of being disrespectful, of making things up.
Of being too sensitive.
And ten minutes later, she was packing her things in the break room, hands shaking with rage and shame and something else she didn't want to name.
Fired.
Again.
For not smiling enough.
For saying no.
Outside, the night air was cold against her flushed face. She walked the few blocks home without really thinking just counting steps, trying not to fall apart.
It wasn't even about the job.
It was about the pattern.
About how nothing ever stuck. How every time she tried to claw her way toward stability, something came along to knock her off the ledge.
She was tired of starting over.
By the time she reached the flat, her legs were numb and her pride was in pieces.
She curled up on the bed in her tiny rooftop room, still wearing her uniform, apron tangled around her waist, arms wrapped tightly around herself like she could hold all the broken parts together.
No tears this time. Just silence.
A silence that felt heavy and cruel.
She didn't know how long she stayed there, curled up like a secret but eventually, her phone rang.
She almost didn't answer.
But something in her chest flinched toward the sound.
A flicker of hope? Or maybe just desperation.
"Hello?" her voice cracked as she sat up.
"Hi, is this Lily Morgan?" The voice on the other end was brisk, female, efficient. "This is Miriam from TempCore Staffing. You came by a few weeks ago? Left your résumé?"
Liana blinked. "Yes. That's me."
"We've had a client request someone for an entry-level admin position. It's immediate start. Nine to five, weekdays. You were flagged as a possible fit."
Lily's breath caught.
A job.
A full-time job.
Something normal.
Something real.
"Where?" she asked, swallowing the disbelief rising in her throat.
There was a pause.
Then:
"It's at WestCorp. Downtown."
She sat up straighter.
She knew that name. Everyone did.
WestCorp was everywhere, real estate, tech, luxury brands. The kind of company people talked about in passing like it was untouchable. Untouchable money. Untouchable power.
"I... I'm interested," she managed.
"Great. I'll send over the onboarding paperwork," Miriam replied. "You'll start Monday, if that works for you."
"Yeah," Liana whispered. "It works."
As she hung up, a strange feeling slid into her chest, cold and unfamiliar.
Relief? Maybe.
But also something more... ominous.
Like she'd just agreed to something she didn't fully understand.
She stared out the window at the night.
And far away, in a tower of glass and shadow, Adrian Vale leaned back in his chair, his phone glowing with the notification Chloe had just sent.
Subject confirmed: Lily Morgan. Placement scheduled Monday at WestCorp, Floor 7, Records Department.
A small smile ghosted across his face.