The days began to blur together.
Wake up in a narrow hostel bed with springs that dug into her back. Pull on worn clothes still faintly smelling of detergent and steam. Tie her hair up tight. Walk through streets that were slowly becoming familiar. Push through the heavy back door of the restaurant.
Work.
Keep your head down.
Do your job.
Survive.
The kitchen no longer shocked her system the way it had on the first day, but that didn’t make it easier. Heat still clung to her skin. The noise still pressed against her skull. The piles of dirty pans still seemed endless. Her hands were constantly raw now, fingers wrapped in cheap bandages she replaced daily.
Agonising.
Hard.
Relentless.
But she endured. Avalon helped her with the healing… but doing it too often would attract attenti
