Seven Empty Deposit Envelopes Showed What Was Happening At Carters Diner
The screen flashed red for a second, indicating a manager’s override. Troy did not hesitate. He entered a four-digit PIN, and the heavy cash drawer slid open with a quiet, dull metallic click.
Troy did not put any money into the register. Instead, he reached into the green cash drawer, pulled out a small stack of twenty-dollar bills, and slipped them directly into the front pocket of his trousers.
Carter stood frozen in the alley, his hand resting on the cold brick wall. He knew exactly what Troy was doing. The cashiers were deliberately performing their sudden kindness to keep Henry away from the counter, ensuring the older man would be safely out of the building while they used his terminal to void the cash sales.
Troy tapped the screen one last time, clearing the display back to the standard login prompt, then slid the register drawer shut.
The kitchen door creaked open, and Henry stepped back inside, his twenty-minute break completed. He was adjusting his clean apron, his face looking slightly more rested than it had half an hour ago.
