Noticing there was something white sticking out from the middle of the pile, I reached for it, money tumbling like anavalanche when my hand closed around something soft.
The second I pulled it free, a wail ripped from my chest and more tears tracked down my cheeks, splashing onto my bare torso. I barely noticed the wetness, too enthralled by the small plushie in my hand. It was a ghost andso cute,all white and furry with eyes, a nose, and an open mouth. Sniffling, I hugged it to my chest. Damp eyes falling on the sock I’d left lying on the bed, I grabbed that too, pulling it in to add it to the hug.
Yes, I knew this was a little… pathetic. A three-way hug between me, a ghost stuffie, and a sock. But for someone who had next to nothing, this waseverything.
Remembering the money, I climbed back into the bed, put the sock on my foot, and tucked the ghost in my lap. After a moment of disbelief, I started to count.
When I was done, I fell back onto the mattress to stare up at the ceiling in disbelief.
Five thousand dollars.
This had to be a mistake. Surely, he didn’t mean to leave so much cash here. But he had. It was literally covering the bed.
I should call him. Find him. Maybe he lost it.
Although, he really didn’t seem like the type to lose an entire fortune before breakfast. Or anytime.
Oh my god, is he rich?
Questions bubbled to the surface, practically creating a parade on my tongue. I had so much to ask him. But he was gone. Left no number. Implied I’d never see him again.
Just the thought of never seeing him again had meclutching my stomach.
Reaching for the ghost plushie, I held it over my head. He hadn’t signed the note. “But he left you,” I whispered, rubbing my thumb over the soft belly. “That’s basically the same thing, right?”
The ghost didn’t answer, obviously.
Why would he do this? Who even was he—besides the human version of an ATM. It seemed utterly absurd that he just gave me five grand and vanished. That kind of stuff didn’t happen. Especially not to people like me.
Maybe he didn’t just give it to you.
The cruel thought brought me up short.
And I say cruel because the thought went on.Maybe he saw it as payment for services rendered.
Oh my god, does he think I’m a prostitute?
Was this backpack disguised as a life upgrade actually a payment for sex?
If all he wanted was sex, why would he have given me medicine, soup, and—don’t forget—the bread with butter? Why would he have washed me with so much care in the shower and put his socks on me before he left?
Gasping, I lurched upright and scurried to get out of bed, which ended up with me in a heap on the floor, one foot twisted in the sheets and up over my head.
I really needed to put on some pants.
At the very least, underwear.
Following that thought, I panicked again and kicked my leg around until it came free of the sheet, then hurried into the bathroom, not even bothering with the light. In my haste, Iknocked over the stack of my folded clothes and snatched the black hoodie from the pile.
The relieved exhale I let out emptied my lungs.
He didn’t take it back.
Sniffling a little, I pulled on the hoodie he’d left behind the first time he’d saved me and wrapped my arms around myself in relief.
I’m not a crybaby, okay? I’m just emotionally hydrated. Which probably makes me physically dehydrated… Never mind.
The important thing was that Hiro left behind the hoodie. And some socks.
