Chapter 9-New Work,Broken Line

      Savannah left the motel room before the sun rose.  

She had no plan. Only a small bag and a head full of fear.  

But she had one promise. She would protect the baby. That was enough to move.

The city was loud and cold. People rushed by. No one looked at her twice.  

She walked until her feet hurt. Her stomach growled. She had not eaten for a day. But she kept walking.

Near a busy street she saw a small laundry shop. The sign was old and the lights were warm.  

A woman stood in the door, wiping her hands on an apron. She looked up and saw Savannah.  

“Can I help you?” she said.

Savannah swallowed. Her voice was small. “Do you hire? I can clean. I can wash. I can do any work.”

The woman looked her over. “You look tired. But we need people. If you can start now, come in.”

Savannah’s legs almost gave way. She nodded fast. “Yes. Thank you.” Her voice trembled but she smiled. Inside her chest the fear was still there. But now there was a small light. Work.

The woman gave her a small uniform and a name tag. Savannah changed in the back room. The uniform felt strange on her skin. She tied her hair back and watched herself in a cracked mirror. She looked different. She looked small. But she was moving. That mattered.

The shop was hot. Machines hummed. Clothes piled high. Savannah learned fast. She folded towels, fed the machines, checked pockets for coins and notes. She moved slow at first, then faster. Work kept her mind busy. Each task was a step away from the mansion.

The owner’s name was Rosa. She was kind in a sharp way. She didn’t ask much. She gave orders and she expected work. Savannah liked that. She liked people who treated her like a worker, not like a broken woman.

At noon, Rosa handed her a paper bag. “Eat,” she said. “You look like you need it.”  

Savannah opened the bag. A sandwich. An apple. A small bottle of water. Tears pricked her eyes. She swallowed hard and ate slowly.

As she worked, she listened to the shop talk. People spoke about small things—bills, kids, a football game. It felt normal. For once the world did not show her Nathaniel’s face. For once she could breathe.

By late afternoon, she had learned the main tasks. She carried a large basket of wet clothes and nearly dropped it. A man named Marco helped her. He was older, kind, and had rough hands. “Careful,” he said. “You will learn.”

Savannah smiled, tired but honest. She felt proud. She had a small job. She had a roof at night. She had a way to buy milk if she needed it later. The baby inside her moved as if to cheer.

When the workday ended, Rosa paid her in cash. It was small. Not much. But it was hers. Savannah counted the bills in the back room, her hands shaking. She tucked the money into a small pocket in her bag. It felt warm, like hope.

She left the laundry with the small pay and the feeling of being a person again. The city lights looked softer. The air smelled of bread and rain.

But fear came back fast. She knew she could not call Vanessa. She could not trust anyone yet. She did not want messages or calls. She wanted to hide. She wanted quiet.

On the walk back to the motel she pulled her phone from her bag. The screen showed a few messages. Vanessa. Unknown numbers. A call missed from “Lawyer.” Her heart thudded. That could be them. That could be Nathaniel’s team.

She sat on a bench and thought hard. If she kept the line, people could reach her. They could find where she slept. Nathaniel could use every tool to pull her back. She could not risk it.

She took a deep breath. Then she opened the phone settings and found the SIM tray. Her fingers shook as she took out the tiny card. The world felt loud. Her hands moved on their own.

She thought of the baby. She thought of the life she wanted to build. She thought of Nathaniel’s face when he told her she was nothing. She thought of his words—don’t sign, or I will drag you back.

She held the SIM card in her palm. It was small. It was a connection. It was also a leash. She could cut the leash.

She took a small coin from her pocket. The metal felt cold. She pressed it against the SIM and snapped it. The card broke in two, sharp and clean. Her breath hitched.

For a second she felt like she had done something wrong. Then relief washed over her like warm water. No calls. No messages. No tracking. For now, she was alone and safe.

She stuffed the two pieces into the trash and closed the lid. The phone was now only a small black mirror. She opened it and turned off the power. The screen went dark. She slid it back into her bag and hugged the strap.

She had no number now. She had no line to the world. It felt scary and freeing.

That night she slept like a child—short sleeps and quick wakes. But she slept.

The next morning she woke early, ate bread at a street stand, and walked back to the laundry. Rosa smiled. “You came,” she said. “Good. Today we send a big load to the hotel. Be quick.”

Savannah worked harder than before. Her hands moved without thought. She folded shirts until her fingers ached. She carried heavy loads and did not complain. The baby moved often; Savannah whispered small words to it and kept working.

But small town life has eyes. People talk. The man who brought the hotel clothes had a face like many in the city. He carried a clipboard and asked many questions. He watched the workers as he loaded the van.

When he left, he wrote notes. Savannah did not think much of him. She kept cleaning. She kept folding. Work was a safe place where no one asked about her husband or her tears.

Late in the day, a young woman came into the shop. Her apron was neat. Her hair in a bun. She looked around with steady eyes and then stopped when she saw Savannah folding towels.

Their eyes met. Savannah looked up. The woman walked over slowly.

“You are new here,” she said. Her voice was calm. “I haven’t seen you before.”

Savannah looked away. “Yes. I just started.”

The woman watched her face. There was something familiar in her eyes but Savannah could not place it. “You look tired,” the woman said. “Do you need help?”

Savannah shook her head. “No. I’m fine.” Her voice was short, almost cold. She did not want to talk. She had no energy for questions.

The woman smiled in a soft way. “We have coffee in the break room if you want. It helps.”

Savannah forced a nod. “Thank you.”

The woman turned and walked away. Savannah kept folding. Her hands did not stop. Her breath was even. The baby kicked again and she pressed a hand to her belly.

Time went by. The van came. The clothes left. The day ended. Rosa handed Savannah a small extra bill. “You did well,” she said. “Come early tomorrow.”

Savannah took the money and left with a small step. The city air hit her face. She walked to the bench and sat. The sky was a deep blue. She breathed in.

She reached into her bag and touched the phone. It lay silent in the dark. She had no line now. No one could call. She felt safe.

But just as she stood to go, she heard a voice close by. A man’s voice. “Savannah?”

She froze. Her heart jumped into her throat. She looked up slowly.

A figure stood at the shop door. Tall. Clean suit. His face was sharp in the light. He stepped forward and the street noise seemed to stop.

“Savannah?” he said again, and this time she heard it clear.

She had not told anyone her name. She had not given any number. She had tried to vanish.

Her breath left her. She could not move.

The man’s eyes were not Nathaniel’s. But they were not kind either.

He smiled, slow and cold.