I’m sitting fully upright now, clutching my phone like a lifeline. I have to resist the urge to squeal.
A job. A place to live. An escape.
Just as I’m about to respond with my confirmation, I hear keys jangling outside the apartment door. A moment later, John stumbles in, his lanky frame silhouetted against the hallway light before he kicks the door shut behind him.
“Hey, Anya,” he grunts, tossing his keys onto the coffee table with a clatter. He drops onto the opposite end of the couch, making the whole thing dip precariously. His brown hair hangs in stringy strands around his face, and the tattooscovering both arms seem to shift in the dim light as he twists open a bottle of beer.
“John! Oh my god, you’re here!”
“You look like you just won the lottery or something,” he says with a scowl, taking a long swig from the bottle. “What’s up? Why are you so excited?”
I can barely contain my excitement, bouncing slightly on the couch. “I found a job! Like, a real job with actual pay and housing included.”
John raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. “Yeah? Doing what?”
“It’s at a private island resort. Live-in staff position. They pay three thousand a month plus room and board, and they’re even covering my travel expenses,” I say, thrusting my phone toward him, showing him the text exchange. “Look! They want me to start tomorrow.”
He squints at my phone screen, the bottle paused halfway to his lips.
“Wolf Isle? Never heard of it.” He hands my phone back, his expression unchanged. “Sounds like a scam to me.”
“Why would it be a scam? They’re not asking me for money or anything,” I say, my excitement waning slightly.
“Anya, come on,” he sighs, running a tattooed hand through his hair. “Private island? Immediate hire with no real interview? Free transportation? That’s like the beginning of every horror movie ever.”
“Or it could just be that not many people want to live on an isolated island away from their families,” I counter, feeling defensive. “Some rich people probably bought an island and built a resort, and now they need staff.”
“And they’re willing to fly random people out there sight unseen?” John shakes his head. “Nah, something’s offabout it.”
I clutch my phone tighter, the bubble of hope in my chest refusing to burst despite his skepticism. “Well, I’m going.”
“Seriously?” He turns to face me fully now, his brow furrowed. “You’re gonna just hop on a helicopter with strangers tomorrow?”
“Yes,” I say, lifting my chin. “What else is there for me? Stay on your couch forever? This could be my chance to actually save some money, to start over.”
John sighs, taking another swig of beer. “Look, I’m not trying to rain on your parade. I just don’t want you to get hurt or scammed or whatever.”
“I appreciate the concern,” I say, softening my tone. “But this feels right. After everything I’ve been through, maybe the universe is finally giving me a break.”
He snorts at that, but doesn’t argue further. We sit in silence for a moment, the only sound the distant bass from the upstairs neighbor’s music and the perpetual drip of the kitchen faucet. My heart is pounding with excitement at the opportunity, but I can’t help but let my mind drift to my family.
I don’t have a family.
My birth mom abandoned me when I was six. I remember coming home from school to find her gone, with just a hastily scribbled note for my father.
No explanation for me, no goodbye, just... gone.
My father’s zest for life collapsed after that. The light in his eyes dimmed. By the time he remarried two years later, he was just a shell, too empty to notice how his new wife treated me.
Sharon. She was always smiling sweetly when my father was around and the complete opposite when he wasn’t towards me. Her kids got new clothes, trips to amusement parks, and help with homework. I got yelled at constantly and got hand-me-downs.
“I don’t have time for you. Even your own mother leftyou. Useless girl,” Sharon would say in different ways when I would question why I wasn’t treated like her own.
I blink away the memory, realizing John is studying me. I hastily wipe my tears away.
“This place really that bad?” he asks, gesturing around his apartment.
I force a smile. “No, it’s not that. You’ve been amazing, letting me stay here. I just... I need to stand on my own two feet, you know? I need to make something of myself. I can’t rely on people.”
