Six years ago, “Cara, you are late again!” the manager of the local eatery shouted as he watched a young girl around the age of twenty-one, rushing inside through the back door of the restaurant, dressed in a pair of blue jeans with an old black t-shirt. “I’m sorry, sir! I missed the bus and had to walk four miles to reach here.” Cara apologized in her softest voice, panting, trying to catch a breath, and took out a white shirt and black miniskirt from her bag. “Change quickly. It’s the fucking peak hour, you lazy ass!!” He sneered, and Cara rushed inside the washroom. She changed into a white shirt and a short miniskirt, quickly pulling her long, dark blonde hair into a ponytail, and sighed looking at her pale face in the mirror. She applied a baby pink lip gloss on her dried lips and tied a red and white checked apron around her waist, and dashed out to fix her white cap, only to meet the cold eyes of the manager who handed her a notebook and pen, gesturing for her to serve the c
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