Leaving, though, was bittersweet. This diner wasn’t just a job; it was a home. The creaky floors, the regulars, and her coworkers had become family. Six years in one place could do that, even in a diner that most people considered nothing more than a quick stop.
As she wiped another table, a loud hiss broke the silence outside. She looked up to see a bus parked at the curb, its doors opening to release a crowd of visibly frustrated passengers. The tension in their faces was evident even from inside.