Page 51 of My Heart to Find

The man moves to the nearest lot of tables, where an elderly man and two toddlers are sitting. “Have you seen this woman?”

The elderly man leans forward, squinting through his thick-lensed glasses. “She looks familiar,” he says.

“But have you seen her?”

The elderly man frowns and then looks at me. I don’t know why.

“Can I leave one of these here?” the man with the posters asks me, holding one out to me. “Marnie did used to work here. Not that she liked your boss.”

My eyebrows shoot up. “She worked here?”

“Not for long.”

Mr. Richards clears his throat and looks at the man as if he’s a bit of dirt on his shoe. “You most certainlycannotleave a poster here. This is a respectable eating establishment. We don’t want to be advertising teenagers who’ve made bad decisions.”

“What?” The man looks like he’s going to explode.

“But she used to work here,” I say.

Mr. Richards sniffs. “And she was useless. I’m not surprised she’s runaway—she was just the type.”

All the customers are staring at Mr. Richards now.

“Of course you can leave a poster here,” I say. “I’m sorry about him.”

Mr. Richards shoots a dagger-look at me. “I am your boss. I make the decisions around here, not you.”

“But there’s a woman missing,” Lizzy says. The whole time, she’s kept quiet. But now she speaks in a furious whisper.

“So, you think you can challenge the way things are run inmyshop?” Mr. Richards’s nostrils flare. It makes him look like a toad.

“I’m not challenging you,” Lizzy says. “But putting up a poster of a missing girl is just being a decent human being.”

“A decent human being?” Mr. Richards shouts. “I’ve had enough of you girls! Thinking you can get away with anything because you’re pretty. I employ you to serve my customers, not to decorate my walls with photos of runaway teens.”

“She didn’t run away,” the man says. He’s still clutching the photo. “I think something’s...happened.”

I take the poster from him. The revelation that Marnie used to work here makes me feel strange. Like, somehow, I’m filling her space, just taking over her job. I clear my throat and swallow hastily. “We’ll put it up.”

“You’re sacked—both of you!” Mr. Richards shouts, pointing at me and then Lizzy.

Sacked? I stare at him.

Lizzy’s mouth drops open.

The other customers are getting up and leaving now, in hurried movements, like they want to disappear as quickly as they can. I don’t blame them.

“Get out, then!” Mr. Richards screams at me and Lizzy.

My hands are shaking as I place the teapot on the counter. I run to the staff room and grab my bag and coat. Lizzy is right behind me.

“Those are my aprons!” Mr. Richards shouts just as we’re heading out the front door.

I turn to find him pointing a menacing finger at me.

“I’m not scared of you!”

“You should be!” he shouts back.

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