of the way so harshly the clanging of silverware rattled the entire diner. Napkins flew into the air and the paper wraps that held the rolls together scattered to the floor.
“Why not?”
Her nose scrunched and her gaze flicked over mine before she huffed and pushed off the counter. “You don’t belong here. You’re too good to be wasting time, earning practically nothing at a place like this. That’s why I didn’t let you finish those weeks before and that’s why you’re not coming back. You got something better to go do, so if no one else is going to make you, I am.”
My chin shook as she spoke and a strange, warm sensation prickled my skin. She… believed in me? She’d never given any indication.
“Judith—” I started, but she slammed her hand down on the counter, making me jump and cutting me off.
“No. I been around a long time, honey, and I’ve seen a lot. And I knew from the second you walked in here you were too good to be here. You might not think you are, but you are. I can see it, and I’m damn certain Miss Porter can see it, too.”
I shook my head. “I can’t go back there. I can’t—” I couldn’t see Hudson again. Or Brandon. Or Stephanie or Sandra or David….
God. This morning destroyed everything.
Judith leaned in, forcing me to focus on her dark brown eyes. “You can. And you will. That’s all there is to it.”
“You don’t know.” More tears formed. I hated them. Hated the way they tracked down my cheeks in the same pattern like they’d burrowed roads on my skin this morning. “I can’t.”
“You can,” she insisted. “Because you’re not only better than this place, you’re probably better than whoever is making you feel like you can’t. You got grit, honey. You’re a survivor, and there isn’t a way you can become the winner if you give up now. Isn’t that why you been going to school, trying so hard since you got out of jail? To be a winner? To make something of yourself? And now, what?” She threw her hands in the air and let them slap against her hips. “You’re just going to give up? Nah. I’m not going to let you. And if I let you come back here, that’s exactly what you’d be doing. Giving up.”
Her words washed over me. The conviction in her tone was strong as an oak tree. And somehow, this woman who didn’t have to believe in me, didn’t have to say anything, spoke directly to the cracks and damages created this morning.
Too bad I didn’t have the confidence in me she did. “I don’t know if I can.”
“I know you can,” she said. “I know you can and you will and it’ll be hard because I don’t know what happened but that look on your face tells me it’s heavy. And I know you’ve had a lot of heavy to hold in your life which means I know you can do this, too. You’ve got this.”
I imagined myself walking into Valor on Monday, getting on the elevator… having to sit ten feet from Brandon and possibly run into Hudson and all the hope Judith suffused me popped like a lead balloon.
“Are you sure?” I asked, and hated the way I sounded so innocent, so childlike.
“I’m sure.” She reached out then and covered my hand with hers. Hers were warm, cracked, and dry and caked with flour dough, but strong and firm. I flipped my hand beneath hers over and squeezed her back.
Her warm touch shot straight through all the ravaged parts of me and warmed me to the tips of my toes.
“Thank you.”
Judith squeezed my hand before letting go. “You never have to thank someone for speaking the truth. It is what it is.”
There was a lot I had to thank her for, but she grabbed the silverware bin and started loading it with the mess she’d made from the napkins earlier.
I slid off the stool. A bus wouldn’t be at the stop for a while yet, but maybe the fresh air would help me think.
Could I seriously walk back into Valor Holdings on Monday with my head held high?
I had no idea. But I had three days to figure it out.
I had just reached the door to leave when Judith called my name, barking it out like a command. I twisted and looked at her over my shoulder.
“Yes?”
“I don’t want to see you in here again unless it’s