Breakfast with a Side of Suspicion

I kept my smile steady, refusing to let their petty digs crack my composure. “Your order will be right out,” I said, my voice calm despite the knot tightening in my chest. As I turned away, their laughter followed—low, sharp, and just loud enough to sting.

At least they’ll be gone in an hour, I told myself, clinging to the thought like a lifeline. But as I reached the kitchen, a strange unease prickled my skin. One of them was watching me, their phone tilted like they were recording. My stomach sank. Whatever their game was, it left a chill I couldn’t shake.