Yeah, that.
Following that thought, I tugged one off and shoved it under my nose, inhaling as if I had asthma and this dirty sock was my inhaler.
Didn’t smell a ton like leather, but I definitely got the cigarette.
Hiro put his socks on me before he left.
The thought sent a wave of giddiness through me, making my organs levitate before dropping back into place.
Then I remembered the purple backpack and the fact that I might not be alone. Slipping off the bed, I clutched the sock while bending down to look under the bed.
Listen, something could be there.
There wasn’t.
Straightening, I eyed the backpack as I walked around the bed and into the bathroom to click on the light. The scent of soap lingered. My folded clothes sat on the counter. I stood there for long moments, staring into the shower, remembering his hands on me. The way it felt to be the center of someone’swhole world—if only for a moment.
A wave of isolation crashed over me, but I shook it off.
After confirming no one was there, I found myself standing over the backpack. Did Hiro leave it for me? Had he gone out to get it and then bring it back?
Curious, I grabbed the handle on the top and lifted. It was heavier than I expected, making my elbow and fingers groan in protest. The bottom dragged over the bed, and that’s when I heard it. A crinkle. A folded piece of paper sticking out from under the bag.
The second I unfolded it, I recognized the handwriting. It was the same as before. As if my own thoughts needed proof, I went over to my coat hanging by the door and fished out the paper stuffed in the inside pocket. It was a little crumpled now, but I carried it over to lay it beside the new note.
The handwriting matched. Hiro had left this.
Leaving the old note on the bed, I lifted the new one, greedily reading every word.
You can’t be Dora without a backpack. Room is paid for through the end of the week. Order room service. Get an apartment. And a job. Stay out of trouble.
I read the words a hundred times, clinging to them like it was a love letter and not some list of bossy orders.
And who the hell was Dora?
Carefully setting aside the note, I grabbed the bag and unzipped it, pulling it open wide.
On the top was a large paper sack filled with chocolate chip cookies. The really tasty kind he’d left me before.
The scent of chocolate swirled beneath my nose when Isniffled, unshed tears pooling in the corners of my eyes as I stared at the treat. My stomach rumbled greedily, but if I ate them, they’d be gone. I wanted to keep everything he gave me, even if it grew nasty mold. They’d still be special to me. Green was a nice color anyway. No one ever gave me anything—except for that old man at the shelter who gave me the flu a few months ago. I didn’t count that.
After carefully rolling down the top of the paper sack, I set the cookies to the side and pulled the backpack closer to peer inside… promptly bursting into tears. Those unshed tears from before? They quadrupled. Created a tsunami right there on my face.
As I blubbered, I reached inside and pulled out handfuls of money. Still blubbering uncontrollably, I swiped my wet cheeks on my arms while gasping for breath.
Did he leave this for me?
He couldn’t have.
There’s too much.
You don’t even know how much it is.
I don’t deserve this.
Round and round my mind went, shock making it impossible to hold on to any single thought. Overwhelmed, I tossed the two stacks of money onto the comforter and overturned the bag on the bed.
The pile of cash left me stupefied. Even knowing I was gaping wasn’t enough to get me to rehinge my jaw. I just… had never seen so much money in my entire life.
