He barely touched his food, his eyes constantly flicking between Amelia and the entrance. Amelia forced herself to take small sips, even though she was quite drunk already. She was stalling, desperately clinging to the hope that someone would intervene.
Just as she felt her last shred of hope fading, the bill arrived. Jonathan handed over his card, and Amelia’s heart sank. She was running out of time, and there was still no sign of help. Panic clawed at her, her thoughts a tangled mess of dread and helplessness.