CHAPTER 3: SECURE THE KEYS

The word hit me like a physical blow to the chest.

Filled?

This couldn't be true. I needed this job. 

It wasn't just a job; it was the medicine in my mother's veins. 

It was the roof over our heads.

"Maria, wait," Mrs. Gabe pleaded. "I spoke to Helena this afternoon. She said—"

"And I am speaking to you now!" Maria retorted, her voice cold and sharp.

"The family decided on a professional from the city agency. We don't have time for charity cases."

She began to pull the door shut.

"Please," Mrs. Gabe whispered, but it was too late.

"Maria? Who is at the door?" a soft voice called out from the hallway behind her.

Maria stilled.

She didn't close the door, but she didn't open it further either.

A woman appeared behind her in the doorway, tall and composed. She looked like she was carved from expensive marble. 

As she approached, Maria opened the door wide, and her eyes turned to Mrs. Gabe first.

"Eleanor," she spoke calmly.

"Helena." Mrs. Gabe stepped forward, her hand tightening on my shoulder. "I'm sorry to come unannounced. This is the girl I called about. Clara Adene."

Helena King looked at me.

Her eyes moved over me slowly. She read me from head to toe. 

I couldn't tell if her gaze was cold, cruel, or something else.

Then she turned back to Mrs. Gabe.

"You're confident in her."

"Completely," Mrs. Gabe replied.

Silence filled the room.

Maria stood like a statue, her hand still on the door handle.

"We had another candidate," Helena said, almost to herself.

"I know," Mrs. Gabe replied. "I'm asking you to choose this one. I'm asking you to trust me like you have these years."

Helena looked at me one more time, that same unreadable assessment, and then she finally stepped back from the door.

"She starts tomorrow," she said. "Six p.m."

Maria frowned.

"Thank you," Mrs. Gabe said.

I opened my mouth to say the same, but Helena had already turned and walked back into the house.

There was no tour, no handshake, and no welcome.

Just a command for tomorrow.

And that was enough.

---

The bus ride home took forty minutes and stopped two blocks from our building. 

I walked the rest of the way in the cold, moving through the usual routine.

I got to the door, put my key in the lock, and turned it.

Nothing.

I tried again. Nothing.

I twisted harder. The locks stayed tight.

They had been changed.

I stepped back and looked up at the building like it might explain itself.

Then I heard an engine and turned around.

Mr. Chase's grey sedan was pulling out of the small lot beside the building.

I ran as fast as my legs could carry me. 

I got in front of his car before I had time to think about it, both hands up, standing in his headlights like an idiot.

He slammed on the brakes. 

He was quick, or I would have crushed.

His window rolled down. "Are you crazy, girl?" He sounded coarse. "I warned you, didn't I?"

"I know," I said, breathing hard. "I know you did. I have money inside. Cash. Please just let me in for ten minutes. I'll pay you right now."

He looked at me for a long moment, then turned off the engine.

"Ten minutes," he said.

He threw the keys at me, and I caught them against my chest.

I ran back up and went straight to my room, to the shelf where my piggy bank had been sitting for years.

I smashed it on the cold floor.

The ceramic shattered into a hundred jagged pieces.

I counted what spilled out: twenties, tens, fives, and ones, all rounding up to $725.52 in mixed bills and coins.

This wasn't enough.

I needed more.

My brain was moving fast, clicking through every conversation I'd ever had with my mother.

Then boom. I remembered it.

Mom had a box, too.

I went to her room, found it tucked deep under her bed, and broke it open.

The cash inside scattered across the floor in a mess of crumpled paper.

It totaled $1,344.48.

Combined, it was $2,070.

It was enough for the outstanding rent.

I rushed toward the door, down the stairs, but I stopped.

It hit me.

The sudden realization made my stomach turn.

This was everything.

Every single cent we had in the world was in my hands.

If I gave him everything, I'd be stranded.

No money for school, the bus, or food.

I took out a handful of bills. I didn't count it. I shoved the rest into my bag and ran back to the car.

I put the scrambled bills into his hands.

Mr. Chase counted the money with the interior light on.

Then he folded it into his breast pocket and looked at me.

"That's just twelve hundred, Clara. You're eight hundred short."

"I know." I tried to sound steady. "I'll have the rest by month's end, and this month's rent too."

"Miss Adene, I want my complete rent—"

"Sir, please," I cut him off. "My mother's in the hospital. This is all I have. Just give me until the end of the month. I have a job now. It pays well."

He looked at me with a mixture of pity and cruelty. He knew he had the power to ruin me, but he also knew a vacant apartment wouldn't pay him anything.

"End of the month," I said. "I promise."

"Keep the keys," he muttered, then drove off into the dark.

I went upstairs, locked the door behind me, and sat on the edge of the bed.

The weight of my world finally crushed down on my shoulders.

I sobbed loudly, the sound echoing in the empty apartment.

Today had drained every bit of will I had left.

I am a debtor now.

I owe Mrs. Gabe.

I owe Mr. Chase.

I owe the hospital.

I had spent my mother's savings and still owed rent. 

She had saved that money slowly, one bill at a time, and I had just handed it to a man with our keys.

But we still had a door that opened.

We had a home for her to come to when she recovered, whenever that would be.

And I had a job now.

On probation, but a job still.

I plugged my phone into the charger and connected to the Wi-Fi.