Chapter 6 - The House I Walked Out Of
I packed my things before lunch.
Two uniforms.
A photograph of Dad.
A sweater with a torn sleeve.
That was almost everything I owned.
The housekeeper watched from the doorway.
"You're really leaving?"
"Yes."
"Roman won't like it."
I closed the suitcase.
"He doesn't have to."
Outside, Finn waited by his truck.
I had nowhere permanent to go.
But I had a choice.
That felt like wealth.
Detective Brooks helped me contact a shelter.
A legal advocate reviewed the documents.
The signatures were clearly forged.
My wages had been withheld unlawfully.
The debt might never have existed.
I sat across from the advocate.
"Can I get my money back?"
"We can pursue it."
It wasn't a promise.
It was more than I'd had yesterday.
Finn found me a temporary room.
It belonged to his aunt, June.
She made soup without asking questions.
Her house smelled of bread and laundry soap.
I cried over the first spoonful.
June pretended not to notice.
The next morning, I applied for work.
At a bakery.
At a florist.
At a small neighborhood diner.
The diner owner asked for references.
I nearly gave Roman's number.
Then I stopped.
"I can tell you what I did," I said.
"I cleaned, cooked, organized, and kept records."
The owner smiled.
"Can you start Monday?"
I walked outside into bright sunshine.
For the first time in years, my job belonged to me.
Not to a debt.
May you like
Not to a man.
Not to fear.
