Amara’s hands were shaking as she clocked in at work. She didn’t stop feeling as though she was walking on eggshells until there was still no sign of Philip after she’d served her fourth customer of the night. She was breathing easily when the next customer walked in. Amara picked up a menu and walked over to her, putting on her brightest smile as she approached.

“Good afternoon. I’m Amara and I’ll be your server today,” she said.

The woman looked up at her from under the brim of a large straw hat with big, red roses on the side.  The woman gave her a knowing look, appraising her for a moment longer than natural.  Self-conscious, Amara had to look away, pretending she was looking toward the kitchen.

“Amara Maloof, you may want to take a seat,” the woman said.

Amara’s head snapped to the woman, who was gesturing to the empty booth in front of her. The woman was probably in her late forties, so she could have been a friend of the family. She did look familiar, even though Amara couldn’t pinpoint where she knew her from, but still… there was something.

“Do I know you?” Amara asked, crinkling her eyebrows.

The woman raised an eyebrow and cocked her head. It was the mannerism that hit Amara like a dodge ball. She was the woman that had been beside Philip the other night. Amara began to tug on her apron nervously. A look behind her confirmed that she could still see Kyle in the kitchen. Finally, realizing she needed to hear what the woman had to say, Amara let out a deep breath and slid into the booth. Her shaky hands wrung together on her lap as she met the woman’s eyes.