Chapter 10-A Name From the Shop

       Savannah’s heart raced so fast she thought it might tear her chest open.  

She froze on the bench, her bag still on her lap. Her eyes lifted slowly and met the man’s stare. He was tall, his suit pressed, his shoes shining like glass. The way he stood, the way he said her name, it sounded too sharp. Too sure.  

Her lips shook. “Who… who are you?” she whispered, almost choking on her own breath.  

The man stepped closer, his shoes clicking on the sidewalk. The sound was loud in the night, louder than the cars that passed, louder than the noise of the street. His smile was slow, but it wasn’t warm. He pulled a clipboard from under his arm and tapped it with his finger.  

“My name is David,” he said at last. His voice softened a little. “I work for the laundry. I do the hotel runs. Rosa asked me to check new staff. That’s why I know your name. You signed the sheet this morning, remember?”  

Savannah blinked fast. Her mouth opened but no sound came. Her chest rose and fell as if the air had turned too heavy for her lungs.  

Signed the sheet. Of course. She had written her full name in her tired hand that morning. She had not thought much of it. She had been too focused on folding towels and getting through the hours.  

For one long moment, she had thought Nathaniel had found her. She had thought Cassandra had sent someone to drag her back. She had thought the little peace she had found was already gone.  

But it was only David. A worker like her.  

Her shoulders dropped, and she let out a shaky breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Relief rushed through her, but shame followed close behind. She had panicked too fast, too hard. Her fingers still trembled.  

“Oh,” she whispered at last. Her voice cracked like old glass. “Yes. I forgot.”  

David tilted his head, watching her with steady eyes. “You look scared,” he said simply. “I didn’t mean to frighten you. Rosa wanted me to tell you—tomorrow we start earlier. Big order.”  

Savannah nodded quickly, her chin dipping. “Thank you. I will be there.”  

David gave a short smile, not unkind this time. “Good. Rest tonight.” He turned and walked away, his figure fading into the moving crowd, the clipboard tucked under his arm.  

Savannah sat still for a while, her knees weak. She pressed a hand to her belly, feeling the faint flutter inside. The baby moved as if answering her fear. She whispered, “It’s fine. We are fine.”  

But her heart knew better. Fear was not gone. Fear was only waiting. Because one day, the voice calling her name might not be David. It might be Nathaniel.  

***

Savannah walked back to the motel with tired feet. The streets smelled of fried food and smoke. People laughed and shouted. None of it reached her. Inside her head it was quiet, too quiet, except for Nathaniel’s last words that still burned in her memory. *Don’t sign, or I will drag you back.*  

Her steps slowed as she reached the small door of the motel. She hated it there. The sheets smelled old, the walls cracked, the ceiling leaked when it rained. But it was cheap. It was hidden. No one would look for her here. That was all that mattered.  

She slipped inside and closed the door behind her. The room was dark, only one small lamp flickering. She dropped her bag on the bed and sat down. Her body ached. Her hands had cuts from the day’s work. Her back hurt. But worse was the ache inside her chest.  

She thought of the mansion. She thought of how she had walked out with nothing but a bag. Nathaniel had not cared. He had not stopped her. He had not even asked where she would go. He wanted her gone. And he wanted her to sign those papers.  

But she had not signed. And she never would.  

Savannah curled her knees and hugged them close. Her tears came hot and fast, running down her cheeks, soaking the thin sheet. She tried to stop, but she could not. The baby was all she had now, and even that felt too small against the storm waiting outside.  

After some time, she wiped her face and forced herself to sit up. Crying would not feed her. Crying would not protect the child. Work was all she had. Work and silence.  

She reached for her phone out of habit, but then she remembered. The SIM was gone. Broken. No one could reach her. She was cut off from the world, even from Vanessa.  

Vanessa. Her only friend. The one person she had wanted to call when things went bad. But Savannah had stopped herself. Vanessa was too close to Cassandra. They had been seen together many times. Savannah had no proof, but her gut told her to stay away.  

She lay back on the bed and closed her eyes. Her mind drifted to Vanessa’s smile, to her soft words. Could she really be trusted? Or was she just another shadow in Cassandra’s plan to destroy everything?  

Savannah shook her head hard and turned to her side. She had no answers. Only time would tell.  

***

The next morning came too soon. Savannah rose with heavy eyes, washed her face in cold water, and walked out into the city air. She bought bread from a street cart with the little money she had earned and ate as she walked.  

When she reached the laundry, Rosa was already there, her sharp eyes on the piles of clothes. “Good. You are early,” she said. “Today we must be quick. Hotel orders do not wait.”  

Savannah nodded and started her work. Her hands moved, folding, sorting, pressing. Her back bent, her feet shifted, her arms carried weight after weight. The heat from the machines made her skin sweat, but she did not complain.  

David was there too, checking lists and moving between machines. He didn’t look at her much. Savannah was glad. She did not want questions. She wanted to be invisible.  

But people still talked. The other workers whispered when they thought she couldn’t hear. She caught her name between their lips, caught the way their eyes lingered too long.  

“She looks too soft for this kind of work,” one woman said.  

“Maybe she’s running from something,” another replied.  

Savannah kept her head down. She folded another shirt. She pressed another towel. She acted deaf.  

Inside, her heart pounded. What if someone guessed the truth? What if someone told the wrong person?  

At noon Rosa gave her another paper bag. Inside was rice and beans. Savannah ate in the back room, slow and quiet. She thought of the mansion again, of golden plates and long tables where food was wasted. Tears touched her eyes, but she blinked them away.  

She had chosen this. She had chosen freedom over luxury. She had chosen her baby over Nathaniel’s cold smile.  

When the day ended, Rosa handed her more cash. “You are strong,” Rosa said simply.  

Savannah held the bills in her hand and nodded. She wanted to say thank you, but her throat was too tight. She only bowed her head and walked out into the fading light.  

The street was busy again. She walked slow, her bag close to her chest. Every shadow looked sharp. Every stranger’s voice made her flinch.  

Then, as she turned the corner, she saw him again—David. He was leaning by the shop door, his clipboard gone this time. He lifted his hand when he saw her.  

“Savannah,” he said, his voice calm.  

Her body tensed again. Fear rose too fast, too strong. But she forced herself to breathe. It was only David.  

Still, his eyes lingered longer this time. And his words carried weight.  

“You should be careful,” he said. “This city… it talks. Names travel fast. Secrets do not stay secrets for long.”  

Her stomach dropped. She gripped her bag tighter. “What do you mean?” she asked.  

David shrugged, his face unreadable. “Just… watch yourself. That’s all.”  

He walked away before she could answer, leaving her frozen in the street, her heart racing once more.  

Savannah touched her belly again, whispering, “We must keep moving. We must stay safe.”  

But inside she knew—her hiding place was not strong enough. Someone would find her soon.  

And when they did, she feared it would not be David. It would be Nathaniel. Or worse, Cassandra.