“Thank you,” she whispered to the waiter, her voice trembling slightly. As she took the tissues, she leaned closer and murmured, “I need an Angel shot.” The waiter’s eyes widened briefly in surprise, but he quickly composed himself, nodding subtly before walking away.
Amelia’s heart pounded as she watched the waiter disappear towards the bar. She prayed that her message had been received, that the waiter understood her silent plea for help. She couldn’t afford to look back at Jonathan, not wanting to tip him off to her growing fear.