Chapter 2

"No."

I put the pen back on the table.

"I won't sign it."

Ray raised his eyebrow. "What?"

"I said, I won't sign it, I won't hand over everything just like that. I built that company with you. My shares, you took them with your deception and now you want to get rid of me like trash?"

"You think you have a choice? Look at yourself. You have nothing. No money, no future. You don't even have a body worth looking at," said Serena.

"You're right, I have nothing. But I also won't give you the satisfaction of just giving up," I answered.

Ray stepped forward. "You're stupid, you think you can fight me? I have money, I have connections, I have everything. You? You're just a fat woman who's dying."

"Then let me die with my dignity still intact," I said.

Ray looked angry, he grabbed my arm roughly, his fingers gripping tight until leaving red marks on my skin.

"You will regret this. Serena, quickly get her bag. She won't take anything from this house," said Ray.

Serena happily carried out the order. She reached for my bag hanging on the chair, emptied it onto the floor. Its contents scattered, my wallet, house keys, a few tissues, and an old photo that I always carried everywhere.

The photo fell right in front of my feet. A photo of my childhood with my younger sibling, taken when we were still in the orphanage. We were both smiling, even though at that time we had nothing.

I reached for the photo and held it tightly to my chest.

"That's all you can take. Now leave," said Ray coldly.

Serena stepped forward and pushed my shoulder. "Do you hear? Leave! Before I call the police!"

I stared at them one more time, Ray, the man who once swore to love me forever, Serena, the woman I once recruited and trusted and that little boy, the innocent victim of their betrayal then I stepped out of the house.

The door closed behind me with a loud sound. I stood on the sidewalk, the wallet in my hand only contained an additional card connected to Ray's bank account, at least that's what I thought and that old photo, the only treasure left.

I decided to walk aimlessly for almost an hour but I didn't know where to go. When I finally found an ATM machine, I hoped I could withdraw some money at least to rent a place to stay tonight.

I inserted the card into the machine, entered the PIN I had been using all this time. The screen displayed a message that made me swallow hard.

"CARD BLOCKED. PLEASE CONTACT YOUR BANK."

No. Impossible. I tried again. The same message appeared.

He had blocked it. He had planned everything. Maybe even before I told him about my cancer.

I fell to the floor beside the ATM machine, hugging my own knees. Tears flowed heavily, I couldn't hold them back anymore. I had nothing left.

The night grew darker. I decided to walk towards the city center, hoping to find a shelter or at least a safe place to rest but I was wrong to think that tonight couldn't get any worse.

When I passed a narrow alley between two old buildings, someone pulled my arm from behind. I was startled and tried to scream, but a dirty hand covered my mouth.

"Look who this is," said someone.

There were three or four men surrounding me. Their faces were not clearly visible in the dark, but I could smell alcohol and stinging sweat.

"This woman is so fat but it's okay because she's better to hug."

"Let me go!" I tried to struggle, but they were stronger.

They snatched my wallet and phone. One of them groped my body with dirty hands and tried to lift my clothes.

"Don't touch me!"

I kicked, scratched, bit, anything I could do.

One of them slapped my face. A hot feeling spread across my cheek, and I felt blood flowing from the corner of my lip but I kept fighting. I scratched one of their faces until he screamed in pain.

"Crazy! This woman is crazy!" he shouted.

I took advantage of that situation to run. I ran as hard as I could, even though my legs felt like they were going to break. They chased me for a while, but maybe because I fought too much, they finally gave up.

I kept running until I couldn't run anymore then stopped at a street corner, my body full of wounds, my clothes torn, and my face swollen. Blood flowed from my nose, and one of my eyes started to swell.

I had nothing left, no phone, no wallet, no money. Only that old photo that I was still holding tightly in my hand.

Somehow, I found a government emergency shelter. An old building with flickering lights and a long line of people who had no place to live. I stood at the end of the line, holding back the pain in my whole body.

Inside, the place was overcrowded and chaotic. There were homeless people lying on the floor, people under the influence of drugs with empty eyes, sex workers still wearing minimal clothing even though it was late at night, and several lost children without parents.

I received a bowl of thin porridge from a volunteer and looked for a place to sit.

Several men looked at me with gazes that made my skin crawl. One of them whistled and commented on my body.

"Hey, fatty! Come sit next to me! I like fat women!"

I ignored them, even though tears flowed again on my cheeks. I found a somewhat quiet corner and sat on the floor, eating the porridge slowly. It tasted bland, but my empty stomach received it with gratitude.

I finished the porridge, then looked for a bed. A bunk bed in the corner of the room, the bottom part, was the only one left.

On top of it, a little boy around three or four years old was lying down, staring at the ceiling with empty eyes. He was found wandering alone on the street, said one of the volunteers.

I lay down on the bottom bunk, hugging myself. The night grew colder, and my stomach still felt hungry but at least I had a place to lie down.

^^^

In the middle of the night, a thunderstorm came. The loud sound of thunder woke everyone in the shelter. I woke up with my heart pounding fast, and when I opened my eyes, I saw a pair of small eyes peeking at me from the gap of the bed above me.

That little boy. He was scared.

"Hi, can't you sleep?"

He shook his head, his eyes still full of fear. Lightning struck again, and he closed his eyes with his small hands.

"Come down, sleep here with me."

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly climbed down from the top bunk. His body was small and thin, and when he crawled next to me, I could feel his bones protruding under his skin.

Lightning struck again, and he cried. I hugged him, stroked him gently.

"It's okay, I'm here."

He cried in my arms, his small body trembling.

Finally, his crying subsided a moment later. He fell asleep in my arms.

The next day.

I woke up because of the sound of commotion. I opened my eyes with difficulty. My body felt stiff and painful, the wounds from last night still stung. The little boy was still asleep in my arms, his head resting on my chest.

I lifted my head and saw a group of men dressed in black suits standing in front of me. They looked very out of place in this shelter environment, their suits were neat, their shoes were shiny, and their facial expressions were as cold as ice.

"Who are you?" I asked.