Mrs. Wayne's face was getting redder by the second. The tray in her hands trembled so bad that the coffee in one of the mugs sloshes dangerously close to the rim.

"Mrs. Wayne, I can explain..."

"Explain?" Her voice went up an octave. "You better have a damn good explanation for why you're sitting here in the middle of the day when you're supposed to be at work. When I've been covering your shifts for two days straight."

My hands twisted together under the table. "I know, I'm so sorry. I ...