The rain had started to fall by the time Elena made it home.
Her shoes were soaked, and her uniform clung to her skin, but she forced a smile as she opened the creaky apartment door.
"Lily?" she called softly, setting her bag down.
A little girl's head peeked from the worn couch, a smile lighting up her face. "Ellie!"
Elena dropped to her knees as Lily ran into her arms. For a moment, the weight of the world didn't matter. Here, in this tiny apartment, was the reason she kept going.
"I brought your favorite," Elena whispered, pulling out a small paper bag from her coat pocket. "Meat pie."
Lily squealed, taking it as though it were treasure. "You didn't have to, Ellie."
"I wanted to," Elena replied with a tired smile. She watched her sister eat with quiet satisfaction — she'd skipped lunch just to afford that pie.
The apartment was barely bigger than a storage closet. The walls were stained, the windows cracked, and the bulb in the ceiling flickered whenever the power came on — which wasn't often. But it was theirs. It was home.
---
Later that night, after Lily had fallen asleep curled up against her side, Elena sat at the edge of the bed, going through bills by candlelight. The power had been out for three days.
The flickering flame cast long shadows across overdue rent notices, school fee warnings, and the hospital bill she still hadn't cleared from Lily's last asthma attack.
Her stomach twisted.
Tomorrow, she'd have to face Lionel again. He might have smiled politely when the suited man stood up for her, but Elena knew better. Lionel was spiteful. He wouldn't forget the embarrassment.
Her thoughts drifted back to that stranger — the man in the suit.
Tall. Confident. Dangerous, almost. His voice had been calm but commanding, the kind of voice that silenced a room without needing to shout. And those eyes — sharp and cold like winter steel, yet something about them lingered in her mind.
Who was he?
And why had he defended her?
No man had ever stood up for her like that. Not since her father died.
She closed her eyes, trying to push the memory away.
---
The next morning, Elena arrived at work early, her shoes still damp from being worn overnight to dry. The lobby at Vantage Heights gleamed under the morning lights. Marble floors, gold trim, elegant chandeliers — a palace she didn't belong in.
She adjusted her blazer, smoothed her ponytail, and stepped inside.
But something felt... off.
The receptionist glanced at her and whispered something to a colleague. A bellboy passed her with a smirk. A few of the maids gave her curious looks.
"Elena Hart," a voice called from behind.
She turned to see the head supervisor standing stiffly near the front desk. "Manager Lionel wants to see you. Now."
Her stomach twisted.
What now?
Taking a slow breath, Elena walked toward the manager's office. Each step echoed in the silent hallway. Her palms were sweaty, her mind racing with questions she didn't have answers to.
As she knocked on the door and heard Lionel's voice say, "Come in," she braced herself.