For the next four hours, the kitchen was loud and busy. Heat poured off the stoves, filling the air with the smell of seared meat, butter, and pastries.
I took over the main grill, flipping skewers and plating food as fast as it cooked. Malva stood at the pass like an anchor, tracking orders, directing the kitchen, and making sure every dish went out perfectly.
Outside in the dining hall, Roan and Alice worked nonstop. They moved between crowded tables, took orders, and carried heavy trays of food and drinks without slowing down. Eventually, the late-night rush started to slow.
The noise died down, the last customers finished and left, and the final orders stopped. We finally closed up, turning off the warming lights and shutting down the grills. A quiet peace settled over the big three-story building, a welcome change from the chaos of the day.
