When the rush died down, Derrick approached the manager, requesting more tasks. He cleaned sticky spills in aisles, arranged skewed inventory, and scrubbed the grungy restrooms. Sweat glistened on his brow. He pressed on, determined to gather every possible dollar by dawn, ignoring his aching limbs.
Throughout the night, Derrick’s phone vibrated incessantly, the screen flashing with email notifications. In a spare moment, he glanced at the sender list—names he didn’t recognize, from places he’d never heard of. He rolled his eyes and stuffed the phone back in his pocket, deeming it a spam attack.