In that moment I knew that I had struck a nerve and tapped into her humanity. We locked eyes and I said calmly but firmly "if you think my body can survive it, give me a jamocha shake." She went to move but hesitated, looking away. The counter was only about two feet wide but we may as well have been a million miles away from one another. Her lips moved, as if to object, but she steeled herself to keep from talking. Instead, she turned, resigned but resolute, took a step toward the back of the kitchen, and swiftly pulled an apple turnover from under the glow of the heat lamp, turned back, dropped it on a tray, and shoved it in my direction. That’s the moment when I knew I was completely alone.