I turned and walked away before he could argue, before the concern in his eyes could break down what was left of my walls. His voice followed me though, quiet but clear through the rain.
“They won’t be coming back,” he said quietly. “I’ll make sure of it.”
I didn’t turn around, didn’t acknowledge the promise even though it settled something in my chest. Just kept walking until I reached my building and climbed the stairs to my apartment.
The door hung open, the wood splintered around the lock like a wound.
I stopped in the hallway and stared at it, at the way the wood was splintered around the lock. Someone had forced their way in, and they hadn’t been gentle about it.
I pushed the door open wider and stepped inside, then immediately wished I hadn’t.
Everything was destroyed—not damaged, not disturbed, but annihilated. My couch had been slashed open, stuffing spilling out like exposed guts. My few dishes were smashed across the kitchen floor, and water poured from the sink faucet they’d left running. My books were scattered everywhere, pages torn out and soaked. The mattress on my bed had been gutted, and my clothes were thrown around the room like confetti after a parade nobody wanted to attend.
They’d been here. The loan sharks had come to my home and destroyed everything.
My legs stopped working, and I sank to the floor in the doorway. Water from the overflowing sink was spreading across the linoleum, soaking into my jeans, and I couldn’t bring myself to care. Everything was gone. Everything I owned, the little I had, was destroyed.
I cried then—really cried—for the first time since my mother died.The kind of crying that came from somewhere deep and broken, the kind that hurt your chest and made your throat raw. I cried for myself, for being so completely and utterly alone.
Time passed, though I couldn’t say how much. Eventually the tears stopped because I ran out of them, and I was left sitting in the spreading water with nothing left to feel.
I stood up slowly, my joints protesting, and looked around the apartment one more time. There was nothing worth saving here, nothing I could carry with me that the loan sharks hadn’t destroyed. Even my mother’s ring was gone—taken or lost in the chaos—and that loss hurt worse than everything else combined.
I walked out and didn’t bother closing the door behind me.
The rain had slowed to a drizzle by the time I reached the street, and I had no idea where I was going. No plan, no destination, nowhere that wanted me. I just walked, letting my feet carry me while my brain stayed mercifully blank.
Somewhere around midnight, I looked up and realized where my feet had carried me.
Hector’s building rose in front of me, all glass and steel and expensive security. I’d walked here without meaning to, my body making decisions and my mind was too exhausted to question.
I came here for Lily. That’s what I kept telling myself. After all, I've been his daughter's speech therapist ever since her mom passed. And sure, she hasn't said a full sentence in nine months, but she's making progress.
By the time I reached his penthouse, the power in the building had gone out. I stood in front of his door for a long moment, trying to remember what words were and how to use them.
Just one night. If I could just lay my head down somewhere safe for one night, maybe tomorrow would make sense. Maybe tomorrow I could figure out what came next.
I knocked—because I had nowhere else left to go.
Footsteps approached from inside, and then the door opened.
Hector stood there shirtless and barefoot, a candle in hand casting flickering light across his face. He looked at me, and I watched his expression change from surprise to concern.
Before I could say anything, his daughter came running and jumped straight into my arms.
Lily appeared and launched herself at me, her small body colliding with mine hard enough to make me stumble back. Her arms wrapped around my waist, squeezing tight, and her face pressed against my stomach.
I caught her automatically, my hands going to her back to steady us both. She was shaking, or maybe I was shaking, and I couldn’t tell where I ended and she began.
“Hey, Lily bug.” My voice came out cracked and wrong. “I didn’t mean to wake you up.”
She didn’t let go—just held me tighter, like she’d been waiting for me to come back and wasn’t risking letting me leave again.
Hector checked his phone and said, “This could take a while. The power company can’t send anyone until morning, and my generator is broken.”
Lily pulled back just enough to look up at me, and even in the candlelight I could see tears on her cheeks. She started bouncing in my arms, looked up at him and said,
“Can Sarah stay tonight? Please, Daddy?”
