Chapter 31

For a moment, I just stare at him, the words not quite sinking in. “Fired? For what?”
He takes a deep breath, folding his arms across his chest like he’s got all the time in the world, but his pressed lips show his impatience. “Let’s see… misuse of school property, frequently requesting extra work hours, unprofessional behavior toward coworkers…” He narrows his eyes when he mentions ‘coworkers’. I know very well which coworker he is referring to. “Take your pick.”
My anger flares. I haven’t done anything wrong, and he knows it. “That’s it? That’s absurd!” I stand up from my chair and point my hand back at the computer behind me. “I promise you this won’t happen again!”
“Doesn’t matter,” he shrugs, clearly unfazed by my promise. “I’m the one calling the shots here, and I’m saying you’re out.”
Chelsea’s dad turns on his heel, already dismissing me, like I’m just a minor inconvenience he’s glad to be rid of. But I desperately follow his heels, “Please, reconsider it! This job means everything to me. I really need this job!”
“You should have thought about that before you committed such serious infractions,” he says without even looking at me, continuing to walk towards his office next door.
“Please, Mr. Howard, I promise I will change immediately. I have a son who depends on me. You can’t do this to me—”
“That’s just not true, Mrs. Dove,” Chelsea’s dad drawl condescendingly. “I can do this, and in fact, I have already done it.” He finally turns to me, more impatient than ever, with his hand on the doorknob of his office. “Please gather your things and leave. Security will escort you out.” I have to remind myself to breathe because my brain freezes in disbelief that I’m being fired.
It’s only when he opens the door that I react. “Please, Mr. Howard,” I say, clasping my hands over my chest. “Please reconsider—”
But he cuts me off. “Please don’t beg me, Mrs. Dove. It’s a little pathetic after everything you have done to my sweet daughter... The nasty way you’ve been treating her lately... I really don’t have time to listen to you.”
Then, he closes the door with a loud thud, much like his daughter did last night. I guess she learned from him.
My mouth drops open. This... this cockroach!
*The nasty way* I’ve been treating his daughter? He knows nothing!
Oh God! I should have taken Chelsea’s threats more seriously!
Stupid, Alicent! So damn stupid!
I run a hand down my face. I can hear Chelsea’s dad’s footsteps echo through the door, a steady rhythm that makes my blood boil as I hear him talking to the security guard on the phone.
That’s my cue. I turn and head back to the break room.
What am I going to do now?
I sit there before I pack my things as he’s ordered me. I stare at the screen that suddenly looks blanker than ever, feeling the weight of what just happened crash over me.
Fired.
Just like that.
Another important thing Chelsea’s ruined for me.

🐺 🐺 🐺

The building’s age and the building’s flickering, dying lights make everything around appear like a prelude to a horror movie—fitting since my life seems to be running on a similar script today.
Even though my heart is racing, I continue standing there, frozen like a deer in headlights, staring at the bright yellow eviction notice duct-taped to the busted door of my apartment.
God help me!
I clench my hands into fists before I peel the paper off. The tape strips off more of the chipped paint from the door. This place is literally falling apart. It’s a miracle it’s still standing.
Immediately after I enter the apartment and close the door, I dial the landlord, still gripping the eviction notice in my hand.
I spent the whole night hauling out the broken furniture, piece by piece, dragging it down the stairs and dumping it in the trash outside. It took so many trips my legs felt like jelly. After that, I scrubbed and cleaned whatever was left in the apartment until my hands were raw. By the time I finished, it was nearly morning, and I had only managed about an hour of sleep before I had to go to work. But I kept thinking, it’s worth it—I couldn’t let my son come back to a place that looked like that.
At least I managed to get the door to close again before I left. The apartment looks so empty now; with just a few blankets, I managed to gather up to make a kind of bed for us. It’s far from perfect, but it’s the best I can do right now. Still, I hope, pray really, to convince Logan to let my son stay at his house for just one more night. I know he’ll be angry, but what else can I do?
The line rings and rings, but no one answers. Just when I think it’s going to voicemail, he finally picks up. “I’m listening.”
“Hi, Mr. Clyde, it’s me, Alicent Andrews,” I say Logan’s last name out of habit and shake my head. I should’ve corrected myself, but I’ve got bigger problems. I continue, “From apartment 408—”
“What do you want?” he cuts in, all rough edges and irritation. “You saw the eviction notice, right? You’ve got until the end of the week to get out of my building, or else...” He trails off, but I know better than to ask *Or else what?*. Knowing Mr. Clyde, the answer isn’t something I want spelled out.
“I’m holding it in my hand. I don’t understand why I am being evicted, though! I paid the last rent on time!”
“And that’s why I gave you all these days until the end of the week, just because you always pay on time. Be grateful,” he snarls.
For God’s sake! He expects me to thank him?
Take a deep breath, Alicent!
“But why am I being evicted in the first place?” I ask, almost crumpling the paper in my hand.
“Are you kidding me? Do you think I didn’t see it?” he barks so loud from the other end that I have to pull the phone away from my ear. “I saw the mess that was left behind. The whole place looks like a bomb went off! Before I rented to you, you assured me there weren’t any loan sharks sniffing around your family. Well, it wasn’t exactly what it seemed, was it? I got calls from the neighbors about the ruckus, and when I went there myself, the whole place was trashed!”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Clyde.”
“I don’t care about your apologies,” he snaps. “You have until the end of the week to clear out my place, and it better be the same way it was when you moved in!”
I swallow hard. “It’s very generous of you to give me until the end of the week, Mr. Clyde, but I need more time.” *To find another place to live and work, and, oh, to get money to pay for your things*, I think to myself.
“That’s not my fucking problem!” he snaps before the line goes dead.
I want to scream!
But I know better. The way my luck is going, somehow he’d hear it through the paper-thin walls and charge me extra for noise complaints.
I feel like I am a rat on one of those wheels, destined to collapse because I can’t catch a break.
I try to calm myself down. Everything is going to be okay. I focus on positive and happy thoughts.
Much to my shock, while everything is falling apart around me, my mind decides to remind me of Ethan, the way he called me *his*.
I feel sort of flattered that I’d made him say that. That I’d made him hard.
Then I roll my eyes at myself. Seriously, Alicent?
Ugh. Get a grip!

🐺 🐺 🐺

"Just one more day, okay?" I say to my son, crouching down to his eye level.
I picked him up from school, and now we're in front of his dad's house. Well, just one more day that did turn into two. It's been two days since I got the eviction notice.
Az looks around me, blinking as if trying to figure something out. I look back, not knowing where his gaze is focused, but there's nothing unusual around, just the neighbor's grass next door.
"Is everything okay, honey?" I ask, confused.
"Umm, yes, Mom. That's okay. I like staying with Dad. We watched a movie together yesterday. I wish you were here."
I stroke his hair. "I missed you too, buddy."
"Chelsea said you lost your job..." Az says, looking in the direction of her house when she mentions her name. I know my son is too polite to repeat exactly what she said because I'm pretty sure she must have told him in a wrong way. My heart aches, and I feel like crying. I didn't want him to know. If my son was supposed to know about this, I would have told him myself.
"She is right. But you know what? There’s no reason for you to worry. As soon as I get another job, I'll take you out for ice cream!"
He squirms in delight. “Really? Can Dad come with us?”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say.
"Can I have more than two flavors? And like lots of sprinkles?" His green eyes shine.
“Now, you’re thinking big!” I giggle with him, tickling his belly, and those lines of tension leave my face, and my shoulders relax down a bit from around my ears.
Az looks around me again and gives me a huge smile before walking to the front door. "Have a good night, Mom!"
“Thank you, buddy! You too.” I smile, feeling a lot better now.
But, of course, that tiny flicker of good feeling didn’t last long. My lousy excuse for a car decides to call it quits right in the middle of the small parking lot. The smoke that starts billowing out from under the hood is a good indication that the problem isn't just because I’m running low on gas this time. Just perfect.
I let my forehead drop onto the steering wheel in defeat, but before I can even start to wallow, a car horn blares from behind me, nearly sending me through the roof. I drag myself out of the car, and before I can even process what is happening, the driver behind me, whether out of sheer frustration or pity, jumps out and starts pushing the car to the nearest open spot.
“That piece of junk belongs in the fucking scrapyard!” he snaps when I thank him for his help. Then he slams his car door so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t fall off before going on his way.
Great. That's just what I needed!
No job, no home, and no car!
What else will I—
No. I'm not going there. The last time I said that, Logan almost took custody of Az.
All I want to do is curl up into a ball and wait for everything to somehow fix itself. But that's not an option.
Not that I've had much success with all my attempts to make things better. Turns out, Az's stayed at his father's house for longer than expected, much to Logan's and Chelsea's anger.
Days have slipped by, and I'm still looking for a job. At first, I stuck with schools, but after a string of no's, it became painfully clear just how far Chelsea's father's influence stretches.
That's why I'm looking for any job. Now, with two days left until I'm forced to leave the apartment, desperation doesn’t even begin to cover it.
I’m standing at the bus stop near the mall, hugging myself against the chill while I wait for the next bus. The sky is heavy with clouds, and the air smells like rain. I should have brought an umbrella. I just got out of another interview—another 'no'.
What am I going to do? God, what am I going to do?
Suddenly, my phone rings, and I grab it like it’s a lifeline. It's an unknown number. I smile.
*Please let it be a yes this time! Please.* I pray.
"Hi," I answer.
"Alicent Dove?"
"Yes," I say, almost breathless with anxiety. The wind starts to pick up and get cold, and I feel a few random drops of water fall on my face.
"This is Suzan from MMH. Unfortunately, you weren’t accepted."
"But... in the interview, you said I was the perfect candidate for the position!" I say, trying to keep my voice calm. But I can feel my eyes filling with tears, stinging.
"Um, unfortunately, ma'am, that's the answer I have for you," Suzan replies on the other end of the line.
"Did someone else fill the position?" I ask, confused.
"No," she says too quickly, then hesitates like she regrets saying anything.
"Please, let me do a second interview then," I plead, swallowing the lump in my throat. My voice cracks. "Please, Suzan. I beg you, I need this job." Even though there is no one around the bus stop, I don't care about begging anymore. But I'm glad no one is watching. "I have a son who depends on me, Suzan. I promise I will be your best employee." Tears start to fall from my eyes in despair and hopelessness. "Give me a chance—"
The line goes dead.
I hold the phone to my ear for a few seconds as I close my eyes, making more tears run down my face.
However, I open them abruptly when I hear Vi's voice with a pitying tone behind me. "Allie?"