After reading a letter from someone she has never met, Gemma Moreno is offered a once in a lifetime opportunity that could change her life forever. Torn between accepting an offer she knows she will never be able to repay, Gemma needs to decide if...
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Seven weeks.
It has been seven long, painful weeks since I have lost my job, and I am feeling more helpless with each passing day.
I have been to every restaurant and bar within walking distance, and it has become clear that I have become blacklisted.
Apparently, the pervert who tried to feel me up has some power around these parts, an investor of some sort who has helped most of the food industry in the neighborhood in some way. I only found out because a manager felt terrible for me and decided to put me out of my misery and explained why every food and drink establishment is suddenly not hiring.
Trying to stretch my last few dollars, Dom and I have been living off ramen, rice and beans, and grilled cheese for the past week. I need to find a job, and I need to find one now. I have run out of time because if we go another day, the funds will have officially run dry.
The only upside of me not working is that I get to spend more time with my brother, especially since he has been sick the past few days.
It started as a cough, but slowly grew to full-blown fever and not being able to keep food down. The cough has settled in his chest, and every time Dom opens his mouth, his whole body tenses before releasing a deep, raspy sound. I'm concerned that this is not your average cold, especially since this is the third day in a row he has missed school.
Having just gotten out of the shower, I peek into the mirror to take in my appearance. The large black bags under my caramel eyes are more extensive than I remember, and I wish I could afford some decent concealer to try and mask the unattractive darkness. Red raised blotches are breaking out across face, and my once olive glow has been replaced by pale sadness.
Pulling my plain gray sweatshirt over my head, it becomes apparent how much weight I have lost. We don't own a scale, but with the way my clothes are fitting, it is clear that weight loss can be added to the extensive list of how my appearance has changed over the past two months.
My attention is pulled from the mirror when I hear a soft knock through the door. "Gemma?"
I am greeted by Dom, who has a blanket wrapped around his frail form. "Can I have some more medicine? I think my fever is back."
"Yeah, give me a moment," I say as the weight of my foot causes the floor to squeak with each step, entering the bland white-walled hallway. "I will get you something to eat too."
Dom's nose scrunches in disgust. "I don't want to eat."
Reaching my arm around him, I gently rub small circles on his shoulder. "At least try."
Throwing his head back with a loud protesting groan, he pads his way back to the couch before plopping down.
I mock his childish antics, but quickly stop when I remember how lousy he feels.
