for all the steam that flew out of the industrial dishwasher. At least it hid her tears.
Three hours later, nearly ready to drop, Hayley had all her work finished in the kitchen. Mara and the other waitresses had left. Timothy was on his way to make the night bank deposit and had closed up the entire front of the restaurant. All Hayley needed to do was mop the floors and she could go.
The thought of dragging the mop over the entire restaurant was completely beyond her at this moment. She’d have another cup of coffee, look over a little more of the code and then mop.
And then go home for four or five hours of sleep. And then get back up and do the same thing again tomorrow.
The only light at the end of the tunnel was that for the first time today she’d seen an odd pattern in the coding. It might be nothing, but the way the data had been sent in that particular transmission had been odd, as if it possibly housed some other message.
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