Scattered Dreams, Billionaire Promises.

floors, clipped instructions, and the kind of tension that lived in the c

ad

handbag trembled against my shoulder with every nervous breath, and I resisted the urge to smooth down my blouse for the fifth time. It was ironed. I had made sur

he had whispered, before coughi

oor-to-ceiling windows gleamed, and inside, everything was muted elegance-soft pastels, brushed gold fixtures, racks of silk and lin

a Lang stepp

ore elegance like perfume-effortlessly, expensively. Her auburn hair was coiled in a sleek twist that caught the light when she moved. Her blouse-silk

en she

actly-but something that looked close enough

er at the marble counter near the register. Her arms folded lightly

t a slacker, but the words tang

u look like you've seen the worst

ver gratitude I wanted to express. So I just nodded, clutch

, and she gestured casually behind her. "

like

oon blinking in the sunlight, unsure w

tle while, it

indows like it had been trained. The air smelled like orange blossom and vanilla. Everything was curated-down

ed tiny lattes from branded paper cups as they fl

few weeks, it

urprising patience. She taught me how to suggest an accessory without sounding pu

aming linen jumpsuits and organizing the jewelry case by color

y carbs for me," she'd say with a theatrical sigh, sliding the w

merald scarf with delicate hand-stitched edges. It was far too

nd now," Rina said from behi

en complimented in so long it felt like sunlight after years in shadow.

yself t

ings were s

through the apartment walls at night, brittle and raw. She looked thinner

ning, as I wrapped a scarf around her sh

. We both

it real, and I wa

her water without being asked. Nia started leaving little folded drawings un

utte

fts. Came home late. Cooked wh

started bleeding through

ing as I nearly scorched a blouse with the

ing. "My mom's not well.

ment I saw the woman I'd believed in. Sh

g. Family firs

asked if I could stay two extra ho

y. Because she had been kind. Because

ed, the more that kin

a display cabinet one night. A pair of ear

s voice rang out sharp

," she snapped. "We're runnin

tted. I apolog

amage had

e. Stopped bringing croissants. The scarf va

hift to take Maria to the clin

ren't built for con

my head down.

as what surviv

uietly. Like the last le

rom untreated infections, from working in factories

cation. Monitor

re money. More

dn't have

bled around the counter's edge. The boutique was mostly empty,

my schedule a little. My mom's been ill, and I'

look up from

eekends," I added quickly.

le

g at me, she said, "You're

fr

idn't

kindness is permission to slack?" Her voice was ice. "I broug

The first time I realized the s

I st

ting over. Again. And we co

happened in the sp

, passive-aggressive in ways that could never be called mean,

with a supplier. I had gone to the back to

t, but a bit of a charity cas

t caved

ughed until she coll

bed, sobbing in

orning, I didn

pounding against my ribs, starin

up my phone an

immediately. I'll pick up

rep

uest

arew

that was th

'd pay me what

d that not all betrayal

nce-until you're despera

it turns and la