That Woman, Emma.

Emma

"Toby, did you get into my plants again?" I called out as I stepped into my apartment, immediately spotting the small pot near the window shattered on the floor, its contents spilled out in a mess of soil and shredded leaves. My eyes scanned the room for my mischievous feline companion, but he was nowhere to be seen – likely curled up in his favorite spot, nestled in the depths of my closet.

Returning home after a grueling double shift, the last thing I needed was to deal with another mess. Toby, though typically quiet and unassuming, had a penchant for mischief when left to his own devices. His innocent facade would swiftly vanish when the coast was clear, transforming him into a veritable agent of chaos, delighting in toppling anything within reach. His love for breaking things had forced me to abandon any hopes of adorning my space with delicate decorations, as they inevitably met a swift demise under his playful paws.

Placing my handbag on the couch, I retrieved a dustpan and brush to tackle Toby's latest mischief. As I swept up the scattered remnants of the shattered plant, I couldn't resist teasing him, "That plant was still a baby, Toby. You killed a baby plant," I chided playfully, exaggerating for effect. Toby regarded me with his characteristic solemn gaze, his silent apology apparent in the slow blink of his eyes – he knew he had been caught red-handed.

Though Toby rarely vocalized his desires, his silent communication was clear as day. With a glance, he conveyed his hunger, prompting me to attend to his needs. I dutifully filled his food tray, and he wasted no time in devouring his meal, a wordless thank-you conveyed in his earnest gaze. Chuckling at his earnestness, I ruffled his fur affectionately before heading off for a well-deserved shower.

After a refreshing shower, I prepared a simple sandwich for myself and settled in to watch something on a streaming service. Somewhere amidst the late-night viewing, I drifted off, only to awaken to the persistent blare of my alarm. My laptop, its lid still ajar, had succumbed to its regular power outage, a familiar occurrence. With a groan, I stretched my arms and stifled a yawn, grappling with the inevitable struggle of rising early, a routine ingrained since childhood – first for school, now for work.

As I sat on the edge of my bed, contemplating the long day ahead, a sense of weariness settled in. Following my shift at Marcia, I had another stint at the restaurant awaiting me. This relentless cycle defined my days: early awakenings, quick showers, and hurried breakfasts before setting off for work at 7:30 am. But not before I lavished Toby with affectionate petting and kissed him goodbye – a ritual I cherished amidst the hustle and bustle.

Aware of my late return home, I had made arrangements for Toby's care, entrusting a spare key and his meals to my neighbor, Carolina, and her son. Their assistance ensured Toby's well-being in my absence, offering a semblance of peace amid my demanding schedule.

Carolina is a single mother residing with her ten-year-old son, Louis. She embodies kindness and compassion, always extending a helping hand whenever needed. Understanding the struggles of balancing multiple jobs, she empathizes with my situation. In her past, she juggled two jobs to provide for herself and Louis, ensuring they remained sheltered from adversity.

Whenever assistance is required, Carolina and Louis are quick to offer support. Despite his young age, Louis eagerly assists with tasks and is particularly fond of Toby, always eager to care for him in my absence. Unfortunately, Toby's reluctance to socialize means he prefers solitude over company, making Louis's enthusiasm a bit one-sided.

My workday unfolds in a whirlwind, beginning at eight in the morning at Marcia and concluding at four in the afternoon. However, my financial obligations extend beyond what my salary can cover, necessitating a second job. Consequently, I transition to my role as a waitress at the restaurant immediately after my shift at Marcia, working until ten or sometimes eleven in the evening. The demanding schedule leaves me arriving home late and exhausted, with little respite before repeating the cycle anew each day.