After working late into the night, I wash the dishes with Abby. We're the only two left in here, as the others retired for the day. The boss said it was our turn to wash dishes, so I just shrugged and started wiping the oil off.
It's not my place to question him. Also, taking turns means that sometimes I will go back home earlier.
Abby and I spend hours at it because there are plenty of dishes, and we need to boil the water to keep it hot. Oil goes away easier if there's heat somewhere.
Since Abby cut her finger, I make her dry the plates instead of wetting her hands. She feels guilty for making me do the hard work, but it's only right.
I am a newcomer, after all. I need to make them acknowledge me before being able to ask for favours and leaves.
«The detergent we use is pretty strong. Your hands will be ruined by the end, Julia.»
«Don't worry. I have some hand cream at home.»
