Chapter 1 - The Woman In My Uniform
The first thing Noah Hayes did was hug me.
Not wave.
Not call my name.
He ran from Booth Twelve and wrapped both arms around my waist hard enough that the empty tray in my hand tilted.
“You came back.”
I looked down.
Dark hair. Blue polo. Sneakers with one lace untied.
Eight years old, maybe.
I had never seen him before.
“Hey, sweetheart, I think—”
A man came at me from the booth.
Fast.
He grabbed my shoulder and yanked me away from the boy.
My hip struck the side of the booth.
Silverware jumped.
“Stay away from my son.”
“Daniel!”
The boy tried to get around him.
I caught the table before I fell.
“What is wrong with you?”
Daniel Hayes pulled Noah behind him.
“You don't touch my kid.”
“He touched me.”
Noah ripped his hand free.
Before Daniel could catch him, he ran straight back and hugged me again.
“You said you’d come back.”
I froze.
Daniel did too.
I looked down at Noah.
“I didn't.”
His face changed.
Not disbelief.
Confusion.
“You did.”
“Noah.”
Daniel reached for him.
I stepped back before another hand landed on anybody.
Noah stared at my face.
Then at my uniform.
The black vest.
White shirt.
Gold name badge over my left breast.
CLAIRE.
His small forehead tightened.
“You said Saturday.”
“I wasn't here Saturday.”
Daniel looked at me sharply.
“What?”
“I don't work Saturdays.”
He grabbed my arm.
“Who are you?”
I tore free and shoved him away.
He stumbled into the table behind him.
“Touch me again and you can explain yourself to the police.”
Nearby diners had stopped pretending not to watch.
My manager was already coming from the host stand.
Noah stared at me.
Really stared now.
Like he was searching for something that should have been there.
Daniel came forward again.
I moved between him and the boy mostly because I didn't trust what either of them would do next.
Then Noah pointed past me.
Toward the glass wall separating the dining room from the kitchen corridor.
“That’s where you went.”
I turned.
Normal lunch movement.
Busser.
Line cook.
Pastry assistant.
Luis carrying clean glasses.
Nobody looking unusual.
I walked toward the glass.
Daniel kept Noah behind him this time.
I leaned closer.
The corridor continued twenty feet before bending toward dry storage.
Nothing.
I turned slightly.
“What exactly did she—”
Noah's face changed.
Every bit of certainty disappeared.
He was staring past me.
At the reflection.
I turned back.
At first I saw myself.
Black vest.
White shirt.
Hair tied behind my head.
Then another figure moved deeper in the reflected corridor.
A woman.
Same style of uniform.
Same dark vest.
Same white shirt.
Walking slowly behind me.
Her face was turned away.
I spun toward the actual corridor.
Nobody.
Back to the glass.
She crossed the reflection again.
Then disappeared past the edge.
Noah grabbed Daniel's sleeve.
“That’s her.”
I went through the kitchen door.
“Claire!”
My manager called after me.
I ignored her.
The corridor was empty by the time I reached it.
I checked dry storage.
Back stairs.
Employee exit.
Nothing.
Then I noticed the laundry rack beside the staff lockers.
One hook was empty.
Mine.
I kept a spare vest there for double shifts.
I opened my locker.
The backup shirt was gone too.
I reached toward the small plastic tray where I kept my old magnetic name badge because the clasp on my current one sometimes broke.
Empty.
Someone had taken my uniform.
And my name.
I went back into the dining room.
Noah was sitting now.
Daniel stood beside him, angry in that brittle way people get when anger is losing ground to fear.
I crouched several feet from the boy.
“Noah, when you met the other woman, did you see her name?”
He nodded.
“Where?”
He pointed at my chest.
“Right there.”
“What did it say?”
He looked at me like I was asking the stupidest question in the world.
“Claire.”
Daniel's head turned toward me.
I stayed with Noah.
“How many times did you see her?”
“Two.”
“Both Saturdays?”
He nodded.
“Where?”
“By the kitchen.”
“Did she ever sit with you?”
“One time.”
“Did your dad see?”
Noah looked toward Daniel.
“No.”
Daniel said:
“I went to the restroom for five minutes.”
Noah corrected him.
“Seven.”
“Fine.”
I asked:
“What did Claire tell you?”
Noah looked at me.
His eyes filled slightly.
“She said she had to make sure I remembered her before Dad saw.”
Daniel went still.
I felt it before I understood it.
“What else?”
Noah hesitated.
Then:
“She told me if Dad got mad, I should ask why he locked Aunt Mara outside.”
Daniel's face emptied.
I looked at him.
“Who is Mara?”
For several seconds he said nothing.
Then:
“My sister.”
Noah stared.
“You said you don't have a sister.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
That was the first lie to break.
Then my manager came out of the kitchen holding the access log from the rear service door.
“Claire.”
I stood.
“What?”
She looked at my badge.
Then at the paper in her hand.
“Your employee code opened the kitchen corridor last Saturday.”
My skin went cold.
“I wasn't here.”
“I know.”
May you like
She looked toward the glass.
“And whoever used it came in forty-three minutes before Noah’s reservation.”
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