NATALIE.

“Um, good morning,” I say into the intimidating silence. “I uh, I came to return the plates.”

Nobody says anything in response to that. Even the man who had brought me in had abandoned me.

Great. Just great.

I stand there, fidgeting on my own, feeling the hostile stares burrowing deep into my skin for what feels like hours until someone, blessedly signals to me.

“Over here,” a woman calls from the far back.

I hurry over to her, plates outstretched when I suddenly crash to the floor, the tray falling with me and causing the ceramic plates to crash.

I was tripped.

I look over to see a...