Chapter 30

I step into my apartment, and Az follows next to me. The first thing that hits me is the strong old wood smell coming from the broken furniture. My heart is pounding, a dull thud in my chest that grows louder with each hesitant step. The door creaks behind us, swinging open wider as if mocking my hesitation to face the disaster ahead.
The place is a wreck. The few things I own, the little bits and pieces Logan and I have managed to gather over the years, are strewn everywhere—shattered, ripped, broken beyond repair. The old couch is split open like a carcass, stuffing spilling out like guts onto the floor covered in dirty footprints. I take a step further in, my foot crunching on shards of glass that used to be my only decent lamp.
As I enter the kitchen, my eyes scan the mess. The relic refrigerator is tipped over on its side, the door hanging open at an awkward angle like it just gave up on life. Food spills out onto the floor, a rancid mess of half-rotten leftovers. The stove, the ancient thing that barely worked in the first place, is now mangled, looking like it lost a fight with a sledgehammer. Everything that came with this crappy apartment looks worse than when I first moved in, something I didn’t think was possible, but here we are.
“Mom?” Az calls behind me, but I’m too shocked to answer him.
I move deeper into the chaos, the breath catching in my throat. The cupboards have been yanked open, their doors hanging loose on broken hinges. The few dishes I had are now smashed into pieces. It’s all ruined. Everything. I bend down to pick up a picture frame that’s been flung across the room; the glass cracked, but the photo is still intact. It’s Az on his first day of school last year, smiling, the only bright spot in this dim, dying place. I swallow hard, a lump rising in my throat.
I know who did this. *They* did this. The realization is heavy, like a weight settling on my shoulders. They came, and they left me with nothing. Thank God for putting Shawn in my path! Such a wonderful coincidence that he lives in this building. If I hadn’t left in a hurry with Az after the barista informed me about them, they would have done to my son and me what they did to my family. They don’t mess around, and now they’ve made their point loud and clear.
“Mom? What happened to our home? What are we going to do?”
I don’t have the money to fix any of this. Hell, I barely have enough to get through the month, let alone replace a stove or a refrigerator. My mind races with a dozen different thoughts, each one darker than the last, as I will myself to take a deep breath. But I feel the panic rising in my chest too much, clawing its way up, threatening to spill out in a scream.
What am I supposed to do? Where do I even start? I can’t call the cops—they won’t care, anyway. Not in this neighborhood, not for this crime. The fear is creeping in, cold and paralyzing. I lean against the wall, trying to steady myself, but the wallpaper peels off under my touch, and I feel like I’m falling apart right along with this goddamn building.
I take a shaky breath again, trying to calm down. I need to figure this out fast.
I pull my phone out of my pocket and dial Logan. Luckily, he answers after two rings. “Hey—”
“What do you want?” Instead of Logan’s, it’s Chelsea’s impatient voice that I hear from the other end.
“Hey, Chelsea. I want to talk to Logan, please.”
“Talk to me, and I’ll talk to him.”
God, give me patience. “Is he there? I was wondering if Az can sleep over tonight.”
I hear a hissing noise, followed by a muffled conversation on the other end, but I can still hear it.
“Don’t answer my phone again!”
“It’s Alicent bothering us. Again! You should block her, Lolo!”
“Go iron my pants, and I’ll deal with her. Go!”
I hear more sounds of resistance before Logan finally turns his attention to me. “What do you want, Alicent? I’m not happy with your behavior lately.”
Breathe. Just breathe, I think to myself.
“Logan, can Az sleep with you tonight?” I ask as if it’s not a big deal.
Beside me, Az smiles hugely, similar to the one in the photo, which is still in my other hand.
“Ugh! I have better things to do than babysit all night, Alicent. If you can’t handle taking care of my son, just give up already, and I’ll take custody of him from you.”
I try hard not to crumple the photo in my hand. I feel like Logan’s life goal is just to annoy me. He doesn’t even make sense.
“It’s just for today... I’ll bring him home after he gets out of school tomorrow.”
“You know this is going to cost you more, right?” I can feel his happiness that I’m giving him reasons to ask for more money.
I don’t even bother to answer him. “I’m on my way.”
I hang up the call before he can even answer back.
“Mom... Aren’t you going to stay there with me? I thought you were going to sleep there too... Where are you going to sleep here? Everything’s broken,” Az says with a worried face.
I walk over to him and bend down so that my eyes are at the same level as his. I put my phone in my pocket and place a hand on my son’s shoulder. “Buddy... I can’t... Listen, I can’t sleep there tonight. But everything’s going to be fine. I promise, okay?” I say with a smile that I don’t feel.
“What happened here, Mom? Who did this?”
“I don’t know, Bud,” I lie. “This isn’t one of the safest neighborhoods in Summerville. But that’s not something you should worry about, yeah?” I smile again. “Forget about that. Just make sure you get clean before bed and eat properly for school tomorrow. Can you do that?”
He frowns before sighing. “Yes, Mom.”
I hug him, “Good boy! I have the bestest son,” I say, giggling as I release him. “You won’t have me there, but you can ask your dad to call me anytime if you need something. Plus, you’ll have Elizabeth with you.”
“I gave her to Lily,” he says with a grin, his cheeks flushing.
“You what?” I widen my eyes in bewilderment. “But she...”
“Lily liked Elizabeth, so I gave her to Lily,” he replies shyly.
Oh, my ovaries! With all my torment with Ethan, I didn’t realize that Az had apparently found his first crush. I just hope he doesn’t regret giving his doll later, but from how his face lights up when he says her name, I don’t think that will be the case for him.
Minutes later, after finding some clean clothes for my son in the chaos and replacing them with the dirty ones in his backpack, we were already in front of Chelsea’s house.
I knock three times. But I turn to Az then, “Don’t tell your dad what happened at our apartment, okay?” I almost forgot.
“But Mom, Chelsea might offer to let you sleep here,” he says, looking up with hope at me.
“I don’t want to worry them. Let’s keep this between us, okay?”
“‘Kay,” he replies in a low, slightly disappointed voice just as the door opens wide, revealing Chelsea’s angry face on the other side.
She narrows her eyes at me, her lips curled before turning to Az. “You can come on in.”
Az hugs me, and I kiss the top of his head. “Bye, Mom,” he says as he enters her house.
“Bye, honey—”
Chelsea closes the door with a loud thud in my face.
Everything is going to be okay. Everything is going to be okay. I repeat it over and over to myself until I get in the car, during the drive to my shitty building, and when I enter my apartment and spot again, everything is broken.
Everything is going to be okay.
How?
Everything is NOT going to be okay.
The apartment door lock is broken, so I place a heavy piece of the broken sofa behind it to keep it closed. Then I sit down next to it and finally let the first tears fall. I allow myself now that Az is not here to witness my failure.
What am I going to do? I can’t go back to Violet’s house. Ethan made himself clear that I was as welcome there as I was at Chelsea’s house.
My son can’t come back here tomorrow. That’s why I wipe my tears with the back of my hand before getting up and starting to pick up the broken stuff.
I can’t give up. As I gather and put a new thing in a trash bag, I think about what I will do tomorrow.
First, I’ll head to work early to use the school computer and find a new place for Az and me to live. Yes, we can’t live here anymore. Not in this building, not in this neighborhood. Not if I want to stay alive.
Secondly, I need more than ever to save up some money to pay the landlord for his broken furniture.
Despite everything that happened, I try to think of what my older brother would say to me if he was here now just to make me laugh.
He probably would say, *‘At least you won’t have to spend money on movers. They’ve practically done all the heavy lifting for you, Allie. One less thing on my enormous to-do list, right?’*
I can almost hear his voice as I imagine him telling me this.
The smile that opens next is no longer forced but rather one of genuine longing.
Everything is going to be okay.

🐺 🐺 🐺

The stench of his old cologne hits me a second before his voice does.
“Mrs. Dove,” Chelsea’s father says, his voice oily and slick, dripping with a fake cheerfulness that makes my skin crawl. I turn slowly in my chair to face the headmaster. He’s got that look in his eye, the one that says he’s found a new bug to squash, and today, that bug happens to be me.
I’m reading some apartment ads on the computer in the break room again. When I arrived here earlier to look for a new place to rent, I couldn’t find anything available that I could afford. That’s why I’m using my entire break to search once more.
I’m not even surprised that he comes up to talk to me. I knew my boss would come up to me sooner or later after Chelsea interrupted me in the middle of class to remind me that she was not my babysitter. And I should have just kept quiet and taken her insults, but I have too much on my plate today, so I snapped at her and asked if she could leave me alone just for a second instead.
I completely regret it now.
I knew I should have kept quiet.
“I hope you’re not using school property for personal matters,” he sneers. I turn around just in time to see his eyes, the same blue color as his daughter, darting to the screen. I can almost hear the gears grinding in his head, searching for a reason—any reason—to screw me over.
“It’s my break,” I reply, trying to keep my voice steady. “Just catching up on some emails before planning my next week’s class.”
He nods slowly, dragging out the silence, relishing every second of it. “Well, Mrs. Dove,” he finally says. He attempts to sound natural, but his lips curl as though he is displeased with his own words. “Enjoy this break while you can... because it’s your last.” He pauses, letting the words hang in the air. Then his gaze turns even colder and more pitiless before he goes on, “You’re fired. Effective immediately.”