With a practiced bump of my hip, the door to the kitchen swings open, and I call out the order for table seven. "Two barbecue back ribs and one house — " My mouth snaps shut at the empty galley. Or mostly empty. There's only Tom, the new hire, washing dishes in the corner. 🍓 Запрещённое в соцсетях искусство — t.me/kartiny/5953 "Larissa?" I call out, my heart rate picking up at the thought of my very pregnant sister passed out on the floor somewhere. Or maybe she's lying down in the cooler with her feet…