The Waitress Who Noticed Patterns
Naomi was twenty-four, worked doubles, and didn’t pretend she was important.
She poured coffee. Memorized orders. Smiled at regulars.
She also noticed things.
Not in a dramatic way.
In the way you learn when you grow up in a crowded home where small changes can mean big trouble.
Naomi knew the Reyes family — or as much as anyone outside the club ever could.
Lily always sat in the same spot.
Lily always angled her body slightly the same way.
Lily always lifted her left shoulder like she was shielding herself from something invisible.
And the pain?
