Nineteen-year-old Isabella was working the closing shift. She had locked the front door and turned the chairs up. The tables were wiped down, as were the counters. The blinds pulled and the floor washed.
"Isabella, I need a word." Management announced as they came from the back. Isabella nodded, "Of course. How can I help?" The woman pulled a couple of chairs off a table, "I'm selling the coffee shop."
All colour drained from Isabella's cheeks. "You're selling?" Her voice cracked as she held her emotions in check. The manager nodded, "I've got a prospective buyer coming in tomorrow."
Isabella's ears were pounding, "But I've been coming here since I was a little girl. So have all my friends. What are we going to do now?" The manager sighed in sympathy. "I'm sure you'll all show the new management the same loyalty."
"When will this take place?" Isabella inquired. The manager shook her head sadly, "If the deal goes through, next week."
AN: Should I end this here or keep adding chapters as inspiration strikes?