The shift dragged on like a slow storm.
Sasha worked in silence, barely speaking to anyone. Every order, every plate, every refill was mechanical. Her hands moved, but her mind spun.
Carla's words haunted her.
"One more incident."
That was the incident — and everyone knew it.
At 3:15 p.m., the floor calmed. The lunch rush passed, and Carla called Sasha to the office.
Sasha sat stiffly in the chair across from her.
Carla didn't sugarcoat.
"You're good at your job… when you're focused."
Sasha nodded. "I know."
"You've improved, but your temper—your threshold—it's thin."
Sasha stared at the desk. "I can't work with her anymore."
Carla sighed. "I know. That's why I made a choice."
Sasha's chest tightened. "And?"
Carla slid a paper across the desk.
Next week's shift schedule.
Sasha's name was there. Debbie's… wasn't.
Carla said, "I'm giving you full shifts. I hope you prove me right."
Sasha didn't speak. Just nodded, stood, and walked out — heart heavy, uncertain if she felt relieved or guilty.
Meanwhile, Debbie stood at her locker, already guessing the outcome.
Carla didn't need to call her in. Silence was her answer.
She packed slowly — gloves, apron, water bottle. The same routine, but different this time.
Luis passed by. "You okay?"
Debbie smiled faintly. "I'm too old for this sh** anyway."
She walked out without another word.
Sasha stood at the dish drop, wiping it down.
For the first time in months… it was clean, empty, and quiet.
She whispered, "Guess I counted my teeth right."