The restaurant smelled of oil and spices.
Pearl stood beside the counter holding a tray with three bowls of noodles. The heat from the bowls warmed her hands, but her feet already felt numb from standing the whole day.
“Table four,” the owner called from the kitchen.
Pearl nodded.
“Yes.”
She walked carefully between the narrow tables and placed the bowls down.
The customers barely looked at her.
Which was good.
Because if someone recognized her, things could become troublesome.
Pearl lowered her head slightly and walked back to the counter.
This restaurant was located in a small street far from the business district. Most of the customers were workers or students looking for cheap meals.
No one here knew about the scandals of powerful families.
At least, not yet.
Pearl wiped the table slowly.
Her fingers moved automatically.
Sometimes she wondered how life had changed so quickly.
