Chapter Eight - Goodbyes - Part One

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Hello, wonderful people! I do have to say that I'm excited about the next few chapters. Just saying. They probably would all be uploaded by now if it wasn't for my newfound determination to learn the entire Hamilton track on piano...

Aaaanyways as always y'all have done AMAZING at voting and commenting and even following! Keep it up!

The picture for this chapter is a man named Remmy, who you will meet. (Yes, you're welcome Harry Potter fans :))

I have a question for future chapters - would you like to see songs attached to each update/chapter? I was thinking about putting them in, but I wasn't sure anyone would listen. I've put one in this chapter and have a few I can put in previous ones. Let me know!

Also another question. Would you all prefer shorter, more frequent updates? Or longer, less frequent? (We're talking either a few days in between or a week or so in between.)

Love you all!

Mquistey

***

I opened the wooden door and a bell rang above my head, signaling my entrance.My head was still pounding from the encounter with Samuel, but I pushed it to the back of my mind. I wouldn't make any more mistakes. Quickly looking around, I noticed there weren't too many people inside the restaurant today. I sighed. At least something was on my side.

I quickly darted to the edge of the room, avoiding the circular tables that were normally filled with varying cheap meals. I dropped my sack in a corner next to the checkout counter, praying no one would get curious. Once I reached the back room, I quickly clocked in and headed to the washing station. I greeted my co-workers as I walked by, though there were only a few of us.

My head was bent low, and I began to cough. It was small and I pretended I was trying to hide it. Of course, people still took notice. They shot me glances varying from worried to annoyed. I paid them no mind though, and finished the short walk to my station. I prayed I would see my boss on the way over so I wouldn't have to work for too long. 

Sure enough, as I was opening the door to the back room, a tall, old, and lanky man appeared in my vision. I looked up to meet his face, noting his look of concern. I smiled to myself. He was one of the good ones. 

"Samantha, what are you doing?" His voice was a surprisingly low tone, but I was used to it by now. 

"Going to wash dishes?" 

His wrinkled features became more defined as he frowned. "I heard that you were coughing. Now that I'm seeing you, you don't look very chipper." His mustache followed his words, angling down at the end of the sentence. 

I sighed. Maybe fighting with Samuel had been an advantage. I didn't have to fake being shaken up. 

"Word travels fast here," I smiled lightly. "But, I'm fine. I think it's just allergies."

"Allergies don't attribute to the pale and clammy skin." He gestured to my frame. 

I was startled, but looked to my hands. Sure enough, I was pale and sweating. For the first and last time in my life, I silently thanked Samuel. I wasn't going to have to fake very much. 

My gaze traveled the room as I thought of what else to say, but it landed on my coworkers who were now watching the scene play out before them. Usually, no one wanted to be sent home, so they were anxious to see if our boss would actually do it. For many, a day without work was a day without food. 

I pretended to hold back a cough. "Really, I'm fine. I won't bother anyone."

I had to put up a good fight, though I knew he would send me away. We all did. However, if I acted like I wanted to leave, or got too anxious, he would know something was up. 

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