"Reed, watch the—"
CLANG.
A tray of cutlery hit the floor. Forks scattered everywhere.
Sasha closed her eyes. Not again.
Reed froze. "Sorry! I didn't see—"
Luis raised his eyebrows from the grill. "You still breathing, Sasha?"
She inhaled slowly, then stepped forward.
"Reed," she said calmly, "you can't rush this. Stack slower. Use the towel first. And if you're not sure? Ask."
Reed blinked. "You're not mad?"
Sasha grabbed a towel. "Do I look happy?"
Luis muttered, "Definitely not."
"But," she added, "I'm not here to make you miserable. Just efficient."
Reed nodded quickly, gathering the cutlery. "Thanks. I'll get it."
Sasha walked away before she could change her mind.
Later, Carla approached.
"Sasha. A word?"
Sasha braced herself. "What now?"
"In the office. Now."
Inside, Carla closed the door.
"I've been watching you."
Sasha tensed.
"You didn't snap at the new kid."
Sasha shrugged. "Didn't seem worth it."
Carla nodded. "Which is why I'm making you shift lead starting next week."
Sasha's jaw dropped. "What? I— No."
"You've earned it. And I need someone who knows the kitchen, knows the chaos, and can manage people."
Sasha sat down, stunned.
"What if I mess it up?"
Carla smiled. "Then you'll clean it up. That's leadership."
Back in the kitchen, Sasha picked up a plate, stared at it.
This time, no one would call her a liability.
But the real question was:
Could she lead without becoming Debbie?