It took about twenty minutes, but together, they had done it. With the help of the entire food court, they managed to save the majority of Fruitastic's ingredients before they thawed past the point of no return. While the smoothie shop's workers had to scramble to the adjacent restaurants to restock, it was better than nothing, and the grateful, relieved smile Farron sent Cora across the food court made everything more than worth it.

"That was probably the most fun I've had since I started here," Kevin said as he and Cora began preparing for their own rush. "I felt like I was actually useful—like a superhero."

Cora laughed, pouring espresso beans into the grinder. "What would your alter ego's name be? Bean Boy?"

"I was thinking more like Captain Coffee, but I'll take that."

It was sheer luck that they finished getting ready by the time the rush started. Cora and Kevin fell into their positions just like they had done several times over the last week, Cora at the bar and Kevin at the registers, and were working as soon as the first order was placed.

"I'm impressed," the eighth customer said when they received their drink and toasted bagel at the handoff counter. "I figured I'd be waiting another ten minutes, especially with only two of you working." They glanced at the registers. "I saw his name was Kevin, but you are...?"

Cora smiled at the customer, hoping she wouldn't burn herself as she blindly steamed a pitcher of milk. "Cora—I mean, Cordelia."

They nodded, smiling. "I'll be sure to put in a good word for you both."

It took all of Cora's self-control to wait until after they left before she started dancing in place, wiping the steam wand down to the catchy beat in her head.

The rush continued for dozens of customers, and every time Cora thought she spotted a lull in the horizon, another wave of orders would flow in, leaving Cora to either sink or swim. Of course, she chose the latter, letting herself be swept up in the current of espresso shots and whirring blenders. As rough as the waters were, she loved it, and with every successful handoff and order cleared from the screen above her, Cora's smile grew wider.

That wasn't all. When Cora finally caught a breather, waiting for all of the espresso machine's six group heads to finish pulling twelve shots at once, she glanced across the food court. While the line to Fruitastic was still long, it was moving, and the workers behind the counter were less flustered than before. At the helm was Farron, directing her employees around the store even as she bounced between multiple blenders herself. When someone at the registers called for help, Farron was there in an instant, and once she resolved the issue, she dove back into her own tasks without missing a beat.

Amidst it all, she lifted her gaze, meeting Cora's. Her wink and grin were expected, but they didn't make Cora's heart flutter any less. The day may have started off on an unfortunate note, but this? With both her and Farron completely dominating the rushes at both of their stores, then having enough time to flirt across the food court? This was something Cora could get used to.

There was a loud clatter behind the closed door of the backroom, and before Cora could even think about what caused it, the mystery solved itself.

"What the hell is all of this shit?" Darlene shrieked, her voice barely muffled by the thin wall.

The chatter in Cool Beans went silent—or maybe that was the buzzing in Cora's ears drowning out everything around her. With those words, Cora's body turned to lead, unable to move anywhere except down, sinking as the waves of the rush continued to wash over her.

Eventually, she managed to move her neck enough to turn to the registers. There, Kevin stared back at her with wide eyes and an agape mouth, a customer's credit card frozen in his hand. Said customer was equally shocked, but their gaze was focused on the backroom where the muffled sound of shuffling boxes continued to leak out.

When the door slammed open, Cora spun around, her survival instincts overpowering her fears.

The first thing she saw were Darlene's furious eyes pinned to her like a wild animal ready to strike. Behind her, the freezer door was ajar, propped open by Fruitastic's boxes scattered over the ground. At least one was upside down and open, and a few stray strawberries sat on the floor beside it.

"Cordelia!" Darlene snapped between huffs of rage, then jabbed a finger towards the freezer. "What the hell is all of that?"

"It's...it's..." But the only sound that left Cora's lips was no louder than the hiss of the steam wand behind her.

"Those belong to Fruitastic!" Darlene yelled, once again stabbing the air behind her with her finger. "You're using our resources for the competition! Do you work for them now? Is that what it is?"

"N-no..." Cora whispered.

"Then what? You're trying to screw us over from the inside?" Darlene scoffed. "I knew you were up to no good! I knew you would try to sabotage me!"

"What? That's not—"

"Is this payback?" Darlene bellowed. "For cutting your hours? Or are you jealous? Because you've been stuck in the same position for eight years with no hope of ever going anywhere?"

At her words, any retort Cora had was caught in her throat before vanishing from existence. Darlene was right—maybe not about Cora trying to cause problems, but the fact that Cora was stuck. No matter how hard she worked or how much she tried to help, nothing would change. She wouldn't change. She would never accomplish anything.

Her gaze fell, the floor tiles blurring through her tears as her body trembled in place. Her family had been right about her. She really was a failure.

Darlene released a sharp bark of laughter. "I've kept you around for this long, and this is how you repay me? The nerve." Then, with a rough sigh, "Get out."

Cora had to be dreaming—or having a nightmare, but whatever it was, it couldn't be real. Seconds ago, everything had been fine, almost perfect even, only for that moment to disappear as if it never existed. In its place was a disaster. That's all Cora was ever good for, wasn't it?

Still, that sliver of hope within her, the only thing that had kept her going until then, urged her to lift her head. "What?"

"What do you mean 'what'?" Darlene snapped. "Are you seriously that oblivious? You're fired. Now, get out."

The last bit of optimism within Cora was smothered with those words, and she leaned on the bar counter behind her, hoping to find some stability in the cool metal surface. It didn't work, and her thoughts were swept up in the raging storm of her mind, uncontrollable.

She lost her job; next, would be her money. Her utility bills would go unpaid, up until she was evicted entirely. She would lose her sparse possessions—her clothes, her bed, her keepsakes—then become homeless. She would be stuck in a shelter, having to go through the process of entering the system, lining up for food, claiming a bed, protecting her belongings, sleeping with her old key clenched under her pillow... She would have to apply for jobs and endure the judging stares of volunteer career counselors when their eyes drifted to the education section of her resume.

Then, there would be the questions: "You were doing so well. You had everything you needed. What happened? Why'd you quit? Why'd you give up?"

And Cora wouldn't have an answer for them—just like before. Nothing had changed. She hadn't changed.

"Please don't fire her!" Farron's frantic voice broke through the storm in Cora's mind.

When Cora's focus returned to the present, she saw Farron leaning over the handoff counter, pleading with Darlene.

"You don't get to tell me what to do in my own store," Darlene snapped, waving Farron away. "Why are you even here? For our trade secrets? Leave before I call security." She nodded at Cora. "And take this traitor with you."

Farron stood her ground, scoffing. "Cora is more dedicated than you'll ever be! Everything she does is for this stupid coffee shop and a company that doesn't even care about her! Meanwhile, you're the one leaving hours early every single day, and your minimum wage workers have to deal with the busiest crowds without you."

"In case you haven't noticed, kid, I'm the manager." Darlene waved a finger between Cora and Kevin. "Unlike these two, my position comes with important responsibilities. It's because I do them well that these two even have jobs. Or one of them has a job now. The other one needs to leave before I bring the cops into this."

"You can't fire Cora," Kevin blurted out.

Again, the store went quiet, and all eyes—even the customers'—turned to him. As much as Cora wanted to rush over and clamp her hand over his mouth to keep him from risking his own job, she couldn't move, frozen in place out of fear of the future that awaited her. Under the sudden attention, Kevin shifted by the registers, but when he met Cora's gaze, he took a deep breath and nodded once.

Darlene stared at him, bewildered. "Excuse me?"

Kevin turned to Darlene with his head held high. "You can't fire Cora."

"Of course I can," Darlene said, a hint of mockery in her tone. "I'm the manager. This is my store. Do you know how employment works?"

"I know enough," Kevin said, his voice becoming calmer and clearer with every word. "So are you saying that anyone who uses store property for non-Cool Beans business deserves to be fired?"

Darlene laughed, loud and short. "Absolutely. Am I not being clear enough for you?"

"No, you are," Kevin said, unaffected. "I'm just making sure that you deserve to be fired too."

Cora's eyes widened. From the crowd of customers, a few gasped and others murmured. One whispered "oh damn," while another muttered "I just wanted a coffee." When Cora glanced at Darlene, her shock seemed to have turned her into ice, and she only moved to blink at Kevin in silence. By the handoff counter, Farron glanced between Kevin and Darlene before turning to Cora, her face pinched with concern.

Darlene huffed, glaring at Kevin. "Excuse me?"

Kevin shrugged. "I figured it was a reasonable question. I was the one that reorganized the freezer, you know. And there was something weird I noticed: we have a lot of fruit smoothie concentrate."

Cora turned to Darlene just in time to see her eyes widen before narrowing once more.

"Blendeds," she hissed. "At Cool Beans, they're fruit blendeds."

"Yeah, those," Kevin said. "Whatever they're called, it's weird, right? Why do we have so many ingredients for a product that's not selling well?"

"We have so many ingredients because none of you are upselling those products enough," Darlene said through gritted teeth.

"Then why do you keep ordering so many? Just to let them expire so you can throw them away? Or maybe..." Kevin tilted his head in exaggerated thought, "take them home?"

At the insinuation, Darlene's eyes widened. Just as she opened her mouth to respond, though, Kevin continued.

"Anyway, I noticed that most of those boxes were already opened—another weird thing—so I decided to check inside." He raised his brows at Darlene. "Do you know what I found?"

Darlene still didn't respond, her eyes as wide and body as stiff as before.

"Pastries!" Kevin exclaimed with feigned astonishment. "In the boxes for fruit smoothies! Oh, excuse me, blendeds. Regardless, it's weird, right?"

In response, Darlene took a deep breath, her fists shaking while her face contorted in fury.

"But then I thought that maybe it wasn't so weird," Kevin continued, unperturbed. "I remembered on one of my first days working here, I saw you ringing up three chocolate chip muffins for samples—but you only had me cut two of them. I thought it was a mistake, but I didn't want to say anything, especially since I was still new." To the customers, he stage-whispered, "I'd seen how grumpy she gets when people question her."

As the customers chuckled awkwardly, and one walked off grumbling about getting coffee elsewhere, Kevin turned back to Darlene.

"But now I'm thinking it wasn't a mistake," he said, reaching into his back pocket. "Now I'm thinking that you kept those extra pastries for yourself...maybe to sell elsewhere? Under the guise of a small business named..." He tapped his phone and squinted at the screen through his thick lenses. "Darlene's Decadent Delights?" After a beat, he chuckled, shaking his head. "You really need to work on that logo."

"What's your point?" Darlene snapped.

Kevin looked up from his phone, blinking. "My point? What was it you said? 'Am I not being clear enough for you?'" The edges of his lips lifted a bit when Darlene began to visibly seethe. "My point is that you can't fire Cora. And if you do?"

He tapped his phone before turning the screen towards them. Pictured was a cardboard box, the same one that the frozen juices came in, packed with an assortment of pastries that they sold in their display case. When Kevin swiped the screen there was another box, then another, followed by picture after picture of receipts. Cora stared at it with wide eyes before shifting her gaze to Kevin. When he met her eyes and smiled, Cora felt tears brimming her eyes.

"I managed to find the logs of all the times you rang up pastries for sampling over the past week," Kevin continued, pocketing his phone as he turned back to Darlene. "That, plus pictures of the pastries matching those records exactly? If you fire Cora, I'm reporting you."

Darlene laughed, but it was short and strained. "A picture of some pastries and a bunch of receipts? You can't prove anything with that."

Kevin nodded, unfazed. "Maybe—but maybe not. I'm sure there are other ways to get evidence." He smirked. "Side note, I recently started talking with a new regular who's seen your...work ethic. They also happen to be a lawyer, and they've mentioned looking into your business practices before. I used to say that wasn't necessary, but now...I'm not so sure anymore."

"You're bluffing," Darlene hissed, her face reddening.

"Am I? 'An iced latte, not a hot latte with ice'—does that ring a bell?" When Darlene didn't answer, Kevin's smile grew. "Thank you for that lesson, by the way. I don't know if I would've remembered their order otherwise."

For once, Darlene was at a loss for words—that is, until she turned to Cora with renewed rage and the deepest crease between her brows that Cora had ever seen.

"You. Leave," she hissed through gritted teeth. "And expect to hear from corporate soon."

Cora hadn't realized that, at some point during Kevin's speech, her hopes had been lifted. But with Darlene's reiteration, she felt her chest grow cold and hollow again, maybe even more than before. As hard as Kevin had tried, no matter how much Farron pleaded, there was no helping Cora. Nothing had changed. She hadn't changed.

So she lowered her head and rushed past Darlene, grabbing her purse and refusing to look back as she zipped through the backroom. Even when she heard Farron call out to her over the afternoon rush, Cora hid within the crowd, squeezing between the patrons and hoping they wouldn't notice the tears streaming down her cheeks, nor the sobs shaking her body.

Once again, she had destroyed her life. No matter how hard she tried, she would never change.