CHAPTER 2

The next morning arrived with a faint warmth bleeding through the tiny curtains of their humble home. Traizle was already awake before the alarm rang, quietly preparing breakfast, tying her hair, and checking Layzen’s tiny backpack for the third time. She slipped into her worn-out work uniform, the same faded brown apron she had washed so many times that the logo had almost vanished.

By six-thirty, she was walking down their narrow street with her brothers. Lyndon at her left, Layzen at her right. Each step heavy but familiar. The early city air was cool, filled with the sounds of vehicles warming up, vendors arranging goods, and students dragging their feet through the morning haze.

Layzen’s kindergarten school came first. It stood just a few minutes before Lyndon’s school, a small building painted with bright colors that had long been dulled by the sun.

“We are here.” Traizle said, crouching down as they reached the school gate.

Layzen looked up at her with round eyes, clutching the strap of his bag tightly. “Who will fetch me later after school?”

Traizle lowered herself to match his height. Gently, she smoothed down his unruly hair and straightened the collar of his uniform. “Your brother will fetch you later.” Her voice was soft, but she could already foresee the complaint forming in Layzen’s mind.

And indeed, his lips pushed forward in an exaggerated pout. “He’s always late! I told him so many times to fetch me early.” His tiny foot stomped against the ground, a tantrum brewing.

“You need to understand him, Layzen,” Traizle said, brushing some dirt off Layzen’s cheek. “Your class ends earlier than his. He has to run just to get here on time,” She smiled playfully. “But I’ll tell him to run faster, okay? Faster than a superhero?”

Layzen squinted at her, trying to decide whether that was acceptable. “Alright.” he finally answered, though reluctantly.

Traizle pressed a kiss onto his forehead. “Okay, study hard. See you later.”

Layzen grinned, waving enthusiastically. “Take care at work! I’ll be a good boy, promise!” he declared before running through the gate, his tiny backpack bouncing behind him.

Traizle watched him until he disappeared among the crowd of children. Only then did she glance at her watch and her breath hitched.

She's late.

Her pulse quickened. She tightened the straps of her bag and broke into a run, weaving through pedestrians and crossing the street with hurried steps. The thought of being scolded by her manager gnawed at her nerves. She hated being late. She couldn’t afford to be late.

By the time she burst through the back door of the restaurant, her co-workers were nowhere in sight. The kitchen was eerily silent, utensils neatly arranged, pans untouched.

Too quiet, she thought.

Even so, she didn’t waste a second. She washed her hands, tied her apron, pinned her hair back, and fixed the loose corners of her uniform. Only when she heard the muffled shouts from the dining area did she realize something was wrong.

“Traizle!” Linda called as soon as she stepped outside. Her co-worker’s face was pale with panic.

“What? Why? What’s going on?” Traizle asked, confused and breathless.

“There really is something happening!” Linda cried, pointing toward a growing commotion near the corner tables. “Our manager needs help!”

“What happened? Tell me quickly.” Traizle said, gripping Linda’s shoulders.

Linda inhaled shakily. “Remember that guy hitting on Kim recently?” She continued without waiting for confirmation. “He came again today for breakfast, and he asked that Kim deliver his food. So, we sent her.”

Traizle frowned. “Okay, and? What’s the problem?” she asked.

Linda shook her head rapidly. “While Kim was placing his order, that guy kept asking personal questions. And then, this girl stormed in! She slapped Kim and started calling her a gold digger!”

The words hardly left Linda’s mouth before Traizle moved swiftly and instinctively protective. She pushed through the crowd, her pulse drumming hot against her temples.

“You poor flirt!”

Kim stood trembling beside a table, cheeks red from both shock and the slap she’d received. Their manager was trying but unsuccessfully to calm down the furious girl.

“Ma’am, can we talk about this privately?” the manager pleaded. “We’re disturbing our customers—”

“I don’t care!” the girl shouted. “She’s flirting with my boyfriend right in front of me? She’s a bitch! Who does she think she is?!”

Traizle stepped forward, her voice slicing through the air. “Excuse me,” All heads turned toward her. “Ma’am, you’re crossing the line already.”

The girl’s angry eyes snapped to her. “Crossing what line? You don’t even know what happened! Why are you implying I’m wrong?!”

Traizle kept her composure, chin lifted. “Because I watched you enter. I was in the CCTV room,” She arched an eyebrow. “You stormed in, attacked our staff, and caused a scene without knowing the full story. You’re disturbing our customers.”

The girl scoffed. “Where am I wrong?! Why are you defending that flirt? I’m a customer! Customers are always right!”

Traizle’s jaw tightened. “First of all,” she said calmly, “your boyfriend has been hitting on Kim for days. He asked for her number. He comes here repeatedly just to see her. Our staff and CCTV can prove it,” She took a step closer. “Second, you did not order anything. You're not our customer—you're just with a customer.”

A wave of murmurs rippled across the room.

“We can file a lawsuit for hurting our staff,” Traizle continued. “Kim didn’t do anything wrong. And embarrassing her in front of other customers?” She gestured to the crowd. “You think that’s justified?”

The girl’s anger faltered. Her boyfriend suddenly small looking watched with growing dread. After a tense moment, the girl’s shoulders slumped. She turned around, face burning with shame, and hurried out without another word.

Her boyfriend started to rise, but Traizle raised a hand.

“We’re not done, Sir.”

He froze. Slowly, he sat back down.

“You caused this mess. So, you don’t leave until you apologize to Kim,” She rolled up her sleeves, stretching her neck slightly. “Your girlfriend hit her. You will apologize.”

The man swallowed hard. “Yes, ma’am.” he answered nervously.

“And finish your food,” Traizle added sharply. “Don’t waste it. Enjoy your breakfast, Sir.” She bowed toward the other customers. “We deeply apologize for the inconvenience, ma’am and sir.”

Gradually, the restaurant returned to its normal hum.

Back in the kitchen, Kim’s eyes were still glossy. Traizle approached her gently. “Are you okay?”

Kim nodded, squeezing Traizle’s hand. “Thank you for stepping in.”

“No problem,” Traizle said softly. “I wondered why the kitchen was empty. Seeing everyone outside, I figured something was wrong,” She turned to their manager. “Ma’am, I’m sorry for being late.”

Their manager waved it off. “Apology accepted. You fixed the mess faster than any of us. If you hadn’t been here, we’d still be trying to calm that girl down.”

Their co-workers laughed.

“Raising your sleeves was iconic.” one said.

“You’re basically our girl bouncer.” Linda added with two thumbs up.

Traizle laughed softly and returned to work.

Moments later, the chef called out, “Traizle! Table fifteen.”

“Okay, Chef!” she answered, grabbing the tray and heading out.

She placed the dishes in front of three neatly dressed men drowning in paperwork. “Grilled cheese, French toast, and cappuccino. Should I get another table for your papers?”

“Yes, that would help. Thank you.” one replied.

She brought a small side table for their documents and bowed politely. “Enjoy your breakfast, sirs. Have a blessed morning ahead.”

As she walked away, she overheard one of them mutter, “Should we get dessert? I want something sweet.”

Businessman with a sweet tooth, she thought, amused.

Returning to the kitchen, Linda nudged her. “How’s work lately? And your sidelines?”

“They’re okay,” Traizle replied. “Enough to keep my brothers provided for.”

Her days were always full. Mornings at the restaurant. Evenings as a food courier. Weekends pushing flyers, promoting products, or taking night shifts at a convenience store. She had no days off—only different types of work.

Before break time ended, she approached their manager. “Ma’am, may I step out for a bit? I need to hand money to my brother. I’ll work overtime later.”

“Go ahead,” the manager said kindly. “Just be quick.”

Traizle jogged to Lyndon’s school, panting lightly when she reached him.

“Did you buy the first four books already?” she asked, handing him money for the remaining subjects.

Lyndon nodded. “Yes! Thankfully, no more copying notes.” He eyed her uniform. “You’re still in your work clothes?”

“It’s my break. I’ll go back after this and catch up on time.”

She patted his shoulder before rushing back.

---

That evening, Traizle entered the snack bar after completing a third delivery. The owner was on the phone.

“Ten sets of Set A and ten Coke. What’s your name, sir? Zarsuelo—”

At the sound of the name, Traizle stiffened.

“Boss,” she said urgently, “Ask him where he wants it delivered.”

The owner repeated the question, then glanced at Traizle as the caller answered.

Traizle held up a finger. “Give me the phone.”

She grabbed it, her voice sharp. “Zarsuelo. Delivery to Fox Street, right?”

“Yes, you got it right.” the man replied smoothly.

Her tone dropped. “Stop pranking us. Don’t waste food.” Before he could respond, she ended the call.

The owner sighed in relief. “Good thing you heard me. We would have fallen for it again.”

But minutes later, the snack bar door slammed open. A man marched in, anger radiating from him.

“I’m Zarsuelo—the one who tried to order and got hung up on!”

Traizle stepped forward, eyes narrowed. “And I,” she said calmly, “Am the someone you’re talking to.” she added.