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By way of explanation, he said he wanted “some space to connect” and left one evening, leaving me alone with our eight-year-old son, Damien, and newborn daughter, Connie. Since he never returned, I suspect he discovered a lot more than just space. “Cereal, please?” I asked my mother. Connie’s soft voice interrupted my train of thought. From the kitchen table, her wide, innocent brown eyes looked up at me. I gave her the box of cereal from the top shelf with a fake smile. At that moment, Damien, now fourteen, huffed into the kitchen, still wearing his signature headphones. In a low voice, he announced his intention to meet Jake without rolling his eyes. “Be home before dark.” » I chased after him as he stormed out, reminding him to finish his homework when he got back. Trying to keep a roof over our heads while juggling the responsibilities of raising two children alone had become our daily routine. Working in a call center was useful, but it wasn’t my ideal job. Having a job was the only thing that mattered in these trying times. One day, my new neighbor Emery, a woman in her thirties, knocked on my door. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, and her eyes were red. “Hey, Prudence, would you mind if I asked you a big favor?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly. With a nod, I let her in. Struggling to keep her composure, Emery collapsed on the sofa. The night before, she’d had a wild party, and then her boss had called her in on business. She was too busy to clean her apartment. It was a disaster. If I could be of any use to her, she’d compensate me. Looking at the time, I hesitated. The idea of earning a little more money appealed to me, even though my shift would start soon. We could really use it. I went to work after quickly agreeing on $250. Trash, half-eaten food, and empty bottles littered Emery’s house. I spent two full days cleaning, sweeping, and throwing out the trash. I finished despite my aching hands and back because I kept thinking about the $250 Emery had promised. We could do a lot with that money. It wasn’t until Emery returned that I went to get it. When I brought up the subject of money, she seemed puzzled and blinked. Money? “What kind of payment?” ” she asked. When she insisted there was no deal, my morale plummeted. She brushed me off, said she was too busy, and left for work. I was stunned and furious. She had betrayed me, and I thought about it for the rest of the day.She’d had the audacity to act as if we’d never agreed to anything, after all my efforts. I wasn’t going to stand by and let her escape punishment. My next move had to be strategic. An idea began to form as I walked across the living room; it was risky, but I felt it was essential. At the end of the day, I was filling my vehicle with garbage bags at the nearby dump. In those last moments of hope, drastic measures were called for. I drove home, rationalizing my approach as I thought about our conversation over and over again. The street leading to her house was completely quiet.
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