Every morning at Rosie’s Diner, as the sun rose over the sleepy town of Clayfield, Kansas, Jenny Miller tied her apron, poured the first pot of coffee, and put on her practiced smile.
To most, she was just another waitress in a small-town diner — polite, reliable, invisible. But behind that smile was a woman who carried her own quiet loneliness.
After losing her parents at sixteen, Jenny had learned to live alone in a one-bedroom apartment above the local pharmacy. Her life was simple, predictable, and often achingly quiet.
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