I was steeling myself to go back to work when the hospital called again.

My mother's attending physician delivered the news with audible regret.

Her condition had taken a sharp turn for the worse. There were signs of heart failure.

He urged me to authorize surgery immediately. No more delays.

Otherwise she might not make it through the week.

I leaned against the wall and slid down until I was sitting on the floor.

A low, broken sound escaped my throat, and the tears finally came.

I gave myself five minutes. Five minutes and not a second more.

When the time was up I wiped my face, gathered every scrap of courage I had left, and went to Jacqueline to ask for an advance on my wages.

She was lounging in her office chair.

One leg crossed over the other, painting her toenails red.

I squeezed my eyes shut.

Talked myself into it for what felt like forever.

Finally, my voice shaking, I opened my mouth.

“Jacqueline, could I get a few months' wages in advance? My mom's gotten worse. She needs surgery right away……”

Jacqueline was pressing glitter onto her nails. She didn't even look up. Just let out a short, derisive laugh：

“Are you sleepwalking? First you go after my husband, now you're coming for my money?”

I bowed to her, close to begging：

“I'm not joking. My mom is on the operating table right now, waiting for the funds to come through!”

“If you advance me the money, I'll agree to anything. I'll work overtime for free from now on. No, forget that. I'll give up the next few years of my salary entirely!”

“Your mother dying is none of my business.”

She rolled her eyes at me.

She stood to leave.

I wasn't ready to give up. I stepped in front of her.

“Please……”

“Get away from me!”

Her arm swung hard.

The bottle of nail polish struck my forehead.

Something warm trickled down my temple. Blood.

She sat back down, folded her arms, and smiled. Even the smile was vicious：

“Your mother's got nothing to do with me. Shouldn't you be asking your father to foot the bill?”

“Oh, sorry, I forgot. You don't have a father. Your mother spread her legs for some nobody, and you're what crawled out.”

“Why else would your daddy let her rot like this and let you sell yourself to seduce other women's husbands?”

Every drop of blood in my body rushed to my head.

I stared her down, my eyes so red the veins must have been showing：

“Enough. That's the second time you've insulted my mother.”

She swayed to her feet and leaned in close.

“You want to glare at me? Try me. I will fire you right here, right now. Then you won't even have a branch left to climb.”

Spit flecked my face.

“Who do you think you are, expecting me to lend money to the tramp chasing my husband? Say one more word and I'll dock this month's pay too. Every last cent.”

So this was what poverty really did. It stripped you of your dignity and left nothing behind.

I clamped a hand over my mouth, ran out, and hid in the break room, crying without making a sound.

My fingers closed around the silver ring hanging from my neck.

The cold metal pressed into my palm.

Dad, where are you?

How could you be this cruel? How could you just abandon Mom and me?

I pulled myself together and got ready to go back to the floor.

But Jacqueline was already there, blocking the break-room door with a crowd of employees behind her.

“Odette Perez, don't you move!”

My heart dropped.

“What's wrong?”

Jacqueline's voice was ice：

“Five thousand dollars is missing from the register. You tell me what's wrong.”

My stomach sank and I scrambled to explain：

“I was hauling stock all day! I never went near the register!”

She arched a brow, looking at me like I was dirt：

“How do we know you didn't sneak over when nobody was looking?”

“I didn't!”

My eyes stung so badly they must have been crimson.

“Check the cameras! The footage will prove I was never at the register!”

Jacqueline let out a scornful laugh：

“Sorry, the security cameras just happened to break down today. Nothing recorded since this afternoon. What a coincidence, right?”

My blood ran cold.

And I happened to have exactly five thousand dollars on me.

“If you're saying you didn't steal it, then you won't mind letting us search you, will you?”

Jacqueline pressed closer, step by step：

“If the money doesn't turn up, that proves you're innocent. Otherwise, you're a thief.”

I stared at her in disbelief.

“You have no right to search me!”

Jacqueline threw her head back and laughed：

“Either you let us search you, or I call the cops! And when they haul you away, it won't just be jail time for you. That sickly mother of yours can rot in her hospital bed waiting to die!”

The mention of my mother twisted something deep in my chest.

If the police took me away, there would be no one left to take care of her.

I clenched the envelope inside my pocket, my palm slick with sweat.

The five thousand dollars in that envelope was from Norman.

If they found it on me,

nothing I said would save me.

But if I refused the search,

they'd call the police.

There was no way out.

Two security guards walked over and seized me by the arms.

I thrashed against them, but it was useless.

Jacqueline reached straight for my pocket.

“Don't touch me!”

I knocked her hand away.

“Crack.”

Jacqueline slapped me hard across the face.

My cheek burned white-hot, and blood seeped from the corner of my mouth.

She ripped open my uniform pocket.

The envelope hit the floor.

Red bills fanned out across the tile.

A collective gasp rippled through the room.

Jacqueline snatched the money up and held it high for everyone to see：

“Exactly five thousand dollars! She stole it from the register!”

“I didn't!” I shook my head over and over. “Mr. Pruitt gave me that money. It was a New Employee Excellence Award!”

Jacqueline looked at me like I'd told the funniest joke she'd ever heard：

“At least make up a decent lie! This shop has never had any such award. Why would Mr. Pruitt just hand you money? What exactly is your relationship with him?”

She leaned in close to my ear, dropping her voice：

“If your mother found out you were throwing yourself at your own boss for cash, do you think the shock alone might just finish her off?”

“Oh, now I get it!”

She raised her voice again, projecting for the whole room：

“This must be hush money! My husband paid her off to protect me!”

I was shaking so hard I couldn't form words.

Then her gaze dropped to my neck, and her eyes lit up.

“And what's this?”

She yanked the ring from around my neck and held it up for everyone to see.

“This ring has my husband's initial engraved on it! She stole his ring and wore it around her neck like some lovesick little keepsake!”

“Give it back!”

I lunged at her like a wild animal.

That ring was the promise my father had given my mother.

It was everything my mother and I had left.

Jacqueline's expression turned ice-cold.

She let out a low, cruel laugh and tossed the ring onto the floor.

Then she brought her heel down on it.

I screamed and threw myself forward, reaching for it.

Too late.

Metal screeched against tile as it bent out of shape.

She lifted her foot, adjusted the angle, and stomped down again.

The sharp point of her stiletto drove into my open palm.

Pain shot through my entire body, and cold sweat soaked through my uniform.

Jacqueline ground her heel in without a flicker of mercy.

Half threat, half triumph.

She tapped the toe of her shoe against my cheek.

“Get on your knees and apologize. If I'm in a good mood, maybe I'll let this go. Otherwise, I'm calling the police. Three, two, one.”

Every last shred of restraint, every ounce of stubbornness I had held onto,

shattered.

It wasn't prison I was afraid of.

It was the thought that if I ended up behind bars, I'd miss my last chance to see my mother alive.

“I'm sorry. I was wrong.”

Words as low as dust.

They scraped out of my throat like broken glass.

Tears mixed with blood hit the floor.

I wrapped my arms around Jacqueline's ankles.

My forehead pressed to the ground beside the toe of her shoe.

“Please, don't call the police.”

I'm sorry, Mom.

This is the only way your daughter knows how to protect you, and it's the stupidest way there is.

The silent apology looped through my mind.

My forehead kept striking the floor, over and over.

Jacqueline finally smiled, satisfied.

“See? Was that so hard?”

She kicked me away like I was something filthy.

“Don't worry. Even after they lock you up, I'll be kind enough to burn some paper money for your mother.”

The last syllable hadn't left her lips when the front door slammed open.

Norman walked in. He saw me on my knees.

Jacqueline switched to a wounded expression instantly.

“Honey, perfect timing! This little tramp stole five thousand dollars from the register. I was just about to call the police!”

I didn't understand why.

But Norman's eyes went red.

A ringing filled my ears, and I watched his mouth move, open and close.

He seemed to be saying something to me.

Then every sound in the room

died the instant he said what he called me.

Stopped dead.