The kitchen didn't care that Sasha had changed.
It didn't care that Debbie was gone, or that Sasha now stood at the center of the storm. Orders still came flying in. Customers still spilled drinks and sent back toast. Dishes still piled up like waves on a rocky shore.
And now there was a new face in the dish pit.
His name was Reed — early twenties, tall, awkward, and way too confident for someone on his first day.
"I've got this," he said, snapping on gloves like a surgeon. "Back in high school, I washed dishes for a summer."
Sasha raised an eyebrow. "This isn't a summer job. This is survival."
Luis chuckled from the grill. "Don't scare the kid on day one."
Reed grinned. "Don't worry. I'm a fast learner."
By 10 a.m., Reed was behind by twenty plates, nearly flooded the sink, and broke a mug.
Sasha hovered nearby, trying to guide without snapping.
"Stack the bowls first, Reed. They take longer to dry."
"Right, right. Got it."
He dropped a fork. Then a spoon.
Luis whispered to Sasha, "Déjà vu?"
Sasha didn't laugh. She watched Reed — cocky, clumsy, unaware of the chaos he was causing — and something in her stomach tightened.
For a second, she saw Debbie in his place. Not because they looked alike, but because he was about to make her job harder — and she was about to make his life hell.
Unless she didn't.
Sasha stood at the kitchen pass, clipboard in hand, but her fingers tapped restlessly.
She didn't feel like a leader.
She felt like an imposter playing dress-up.
Reed rushed by, nearly colliding with her.
"Whoa!" Sasha snapped. "Watch it!"
Reed froze. "Sorry! I thought— I mean— I'm behind on prep—"
Sasha sighed, voice sharp. "Then maybe don't run through the kitchen like it's a race track."
Reed's face fell. He nodded and hurried off.
Luis appeared, arms crossed. "You're a real ray of sunshine today."
Sasha rolled her eyes. "He needs to focus."
Luis leaned in. "He's trying. And so are you. Don't forget that."
By midday, the kitchen was humming — but Sasha's rhythm was off.
She'd forgotten to submit the inventory order, and now they were low on gloves and towels. Reed flagged it quietly.
Sasha's stomach sank.
Her first real mistake as lead.
She called Carla.
"You missed the order?" Carla asked, not angry — just tired.
"Yes," Sasha said. "I'll fix it."
Carla paused. "Do that. And Sasha… don't forget to breathe."
Sasha returned to the dish station where Reed was scraping plates.
She grabbed a towel, worked beside him in silence.
"I messed up," she said finally. "Inventory. My fault."
Reed glanced over, surprised. "Oh. Well… happens."
Sasha smiled. "Yeah. But leaders own it."
Reed nodded. "Glad you're not perfect."
Sasha laughed. "Don't tell anyone."