How would she—
Isabelle approached her, and Mia instinctively straightened despite her shaking legs.
“Do you still want to be a waitress?” Isabelle asked.
Mia blinked, confused. “I—what?”
“There’s an opening,” Isabelle said, and there was something in her eyes—approval, maybe, or recognition. “Management training program. Six months of intensive education continue reading …
