Three more hours till her shift ended, then she could eat again. Three feet-throbbing, backbreaking, limb-shaking hours. She wouldn't last. Don't be a princess. Chin up. Game on. You're a Ford. Built for strength and all that jazz.

Despite the pep talk, her gaze fell to the plates. She swiped her tongue over her lips. Maybe a nibble. What could it hurt? No one would know.

Her arm rose before she could stop it, her fingers reached…

"I think she's stealing one of my fries," she heard a man whisper.

Another whispered back, "What'd you expect from someone like her?"

Danika froze. For a moment, her appetite was forgotten and a million emotions swept through her. Sadness, frustration and embarrassment were the front-runners. This is what my life has become. From sheltered daughter to woman-on-the-run in a single bleak night. From well-respected artist to take-whatever's-dished waitress.

"Like to say I'm surprised, but…"

"Check your wallet when we leave."

Embarrassment edged ahead of the other two. She didn't have to see the men to know they were watching her with hard, judging eyes. Three times they'd come to eat at Enrique's and all three times they'd given her self-esteem a good workout. It was weird, too. They never said anything harsh, always smiled and thanked her when she brought them something, but they just couldn't mask the distaste shining in their eyes.

She'd dubbed them the Bird Brothers, so badly did she want to flip them off.

Don't bring attention to yourself, her common sense piped up. These days, it was the only rule she lived by.

"I better not catch you trying to sneak food again," her boss snapped. Enrique was the owner, as well as the short-order cook. "Now, hurry up. Their food's getting cold."