Diana's POVI started working, learning the rhythm of the restaurant one order at a time, one table at a time, my feet aching in ways I'd never had to think about before this job forced me to notice them. There was something almost grounding about it — the repetition of carrying trays and refilling water glasses and remembering who ordered what, like my body was relieved to have something simple to focus on for once, something that didn't require me to think about who I used to be or who might be looking for me.There was one dish, though, that caught something in me the first time I carried it out to a table. I couldn't explain it, not really, not in any way that made sense even to myself. It wasn't the smell exactly, or the way it looked on the plate, but something underneath all of that — a small, strange pull I couldn't name no matter how many times I turned it over in my head afterward. My hands slowed on their own as I set the plate down, like some part of me expected it to be h
最終更新日 : 2026-09-29 続きを読む