Being the one left behind never got easier. After Mom, maybe I should have wised up. Nothing stayed the same forever, but when I remembered the soft, dazed look El wore right after I kissed her, I had thought that this could. We could. In possibly the biggest plot twist of my life, though, I’d discovered we couldn’t. And just like that, everything I’d cherished for so long became a bitter enemy. Elodie left town, but the ghost of her was still here, haunting.

As I opened my mouth to ask Lucy where she’d heard about Elodie’s return, I was interrupted by the storeroom door creaking open. Ariel, our new waitress, had volunteered to unpack some of our new inventory at the start of her shift, but instead of the sounds of moving coffee cans and creaking aluminum shelves, there had been silence all afternoon. I’d forgotten she was even there. It hadn’t taken Lucy and me long to figure out that organizing the inventory was code for texting her friends in the privacy of the storeroom.

Ariel breezed out, already pulling her apron off her head. Her brown hair lifted with static. “So I’ve just about wrapped up in there—”

I blinked at the pile of boxes behind her before the door swung shut. “Really? It doesn’t look like you’ve made any headway.”

“—so I think I’m going to take off.” She reached for the tip jar with an apologetic smile. “Mind if I bum a few bucks?”

Lucy made a strangled noise.

“No way,” I said. “We divide the tips up at the end of the week. And there’s still twenty minutes before we close.”

Ariel’s face turned red. “Right. Sorry.” She withdrew her hand, cradling it against her chest. Her expression turned wounded. “It’s just … something came up and I’d really appreciate it if—”

I wasn’t in the mood to listen to one of her half-baked excuses. “Yeah, whatever.” I frowned. “Go.”

As she left, Lucy and I exchanged matching looks. Lucy sighed noisily. “How has she not been fired yet? She’s the worst.”

I took a peek into the storeroom. Nothing had been done, except some creative shuffling that might have fooled a manager who didn’t know Ariel and her distinct lack of work ethic. With a sigh, I let the storeroom door close. “I’ll talk to Tom when he comes in tomorrow.”

“Good,” Lucy said with vehemence. “I don’t care if I have to work overtime. I’d rather make the extra cash than pull her weight for free.”

She was absolutely right. I nodded in agreement.

We worked in silence to clear everything away before closing up. “See you tomorrow,” I said as I locked Busy’s door.