Chapter 3

After returning to the main store, I went back to work as usual.

Harriet came looking for me three times.

The first time, she called. "Enzo, send me the supplier's phone number."

I sent it to her without saying another word.

The second time, she came straight to the employee dorm. "Where did you put the inventory loss report?"

I stood in the doorway and looked at her. "It's archived on the computer. You can find it yourself."

The third time, she came upstairs and knocked on my door. This time, the exhaustion on her face was obvious. "Come back and help run things for a while. If this keeps going, we're going to have problems at several stores."

I pulled the operations manual I had put together from the cabinet and placed it in my suitcase right in front of her. She reached for it, but I zipped the suitcase shut.

"These are my personal notes."

Her expression froze. "Enzo, seriously? Are you still mad at me?"

I did not explain.

Whether she saw it as me being petty or holding a grudge, it did not really matter anymore.

Not long after that, the store Jeff was managing landed a major catering order. They needed to prepare 800 meals in a single day. There was no way that location could handle an order that large.

When Harriet called me, her voice was tight. "Take some people from the main store over there. We can't afford to lose this order."

I looked at the bandage wrapped around the back of my hand and paused for two seconds. "I'm scheduled for the night shift today."

"I know." There was a brief silence on the other end. Then, she lowered her voice. "Enzo, please. I'm asking you."

That night, we worked until the early hours of the morning. The kitchen was unbearably hot, and every time water touched my hand, it hurt.

Harriet came into the kitchen halfway through the night and noticed blood seeping through the bandage. Her brows furrowed.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I pulled my hand back. "Would it have made a difference?"

She did not answer. Instead, she handed me a pair of gloves. "Put these on for now. Get through the order, then go get it checked."

Out front, Jeff was busy meeting with members of the evaluation team. Meanwhile, Tania was rushing back and forth through the hallway when she accidentally knocked over a rack of takeout containers. Hundreds of sealed meal boxes came crashing to the floor, sending soup splattering across the walls.

The kitchen went silent.

One of the employees could not help saying, "We told you not to let the kid run around back here."

Jeff's eyes turned red. "I've got enough on my plate already. What more do you want from me?"

Harriet strode into the kitchen. She took one look at the mess, then turned to me. "Just how are you managing things here?"

I looked at her. "I'm managing the staff and making sure they do their jobs. I'm not responsible for babysitting someone else's kid."

Her face hardened. "Jeff is under a lot of pressure. Do you really have to embarrass him in front of everyone?"

I pulled off my glove and showed her the wound, blood staining the bandage. "This is a place of business. Even if he has problems, everyone else shouldn't have to carry the burden for him."

Jeff covered his face and ran out.

Harriet grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the storage room. "Do you really have to be this cruel?"

I yanked my hand free, and the wound tore open again. "I worked all night. My hand is bleeding. And the first thing you asked was whether he was embarrassed."

She stared at my hand, a flicker of panic crossing her eyes. However, when she spoke again, her words still cut just as deep. "You've always been able to handle things. Jeff is different."

I did not argue anymore. I walked out of the store and went to the hospital by myself.

When the doctor removed the bandage, the wound had become badly infected. His expression turned serious. "Keep it away from dirty water. One more infection like this and you could lose the use of this hand."

While I was sitting in the infusion room, I received a call from Larisse Chapman, a director at a long-established restaurant company in the industry. She offered me a six-month training position in store operations. They would provide housing and meals, and I would receive my full salary.

I gave her my answer almost instantly. "I'll go."

…

That evening, I returned to the main store. I had just finished cooking myself a bowl of noodles when a video popped up in the employee group chat.

The new house had been decorated with colorful balloons. Tania was wearing a birthday hat and hugging Harriet's arm. "Ms. Rogers, are you going to live with Daddy and me here forever?"

Harriet bent down and straightened the girl's hat. She did not deny it.

I called Harriet, but there was a lot of noise in the background.

"I'm busy right now. You can handle tomorrow's supply run for me."

The call ended.

I opened our chat and sent in my resignation. Then, I added one final sentence: [This time, I'm not waiting anymore.]