I leaned back against the wall and stared at the ceiling.
Okay.
Options.
Urgent care — no insurance.
Hospital — absolutely not.
Ignore it — risky.
Rest — maybe.
Work in the basement Monday — yes.
Double time — yes.
Money — needed.
My phone lay beside me. I picked it up. Opened the banking app. Closed it again. I pressed my palms over my eyes.
Think.
Think.
Maybe it’s just a sprain. Maybe swelling looks worse than it is. Maybe if I stay off it for a few days. Maybe I’ll wake up in the morning, and it will be all better. Nothing a good night's sleep couldn’t fix, right?
My brain kept circling the same useless loop. I had to work tomorrow regardless of the state of my knee. There was no other option. Nothing that didn’t involve debt collectors or moving my father or asking for something I couldn’t repay.
I stared at the little string of fairy lights along the ceiling.
They flickered faintly as the battery dipped.
I shifted carefully, trying to find a position that didn’t pull at the joint, but nothing worked. The pain still throbbed steadily.
Outside, a car drove past. Life continued. No matter how hard and unfair it all seemed.
8
BELLE
There is nothing dignified about trying to balance on one leg in a public shower while the other throbs like it’s filing a formal complaint. I braced my palm against the tile wall and let the water run hot over my shoulders. The gym was already busy for a Sunday morning. A locker slammed as someone blasted a podcast about productivity. The fluorescent lights did me no favors.
My knee had stiffened overnight. Not catastrophic, just swollen and deeply offended. I could walk . . . . technically. It just looked like I was reconsidering every step halfway through it.
In the mirror, I studied myself.
“You are thriving,” I told my reflection. She looked unconvinced.
Bread Zeppelin smelled like sugar and stability. I ordered coffee and limped to my usual corner seat. The chair scraped louder than I meant it to when I pulled it out. I hated that my body was broadcasting weakness. I wrapped both hands around the cup and stared at my phone.
My knee pulsed steadily under the table.
The door chimed as someone else came in. I didn’t even look up.
My phone buzzed on the table with an unknown number.
I answered before I could talk myself out of it.
