Chapter 4 - A Place With a Door
Renee didn't argue about the documents.
She simply said, "Get your shoes. You're sleeping at my place tonight."
Mom blocked the hallway.
"If she walks out, she can stay out."
"You don't mean that," I said.
"Try me."
For years I had imagined freedom as a dramatic speech.
It felt more like carrying a suitcase past someone who knew exactly how to make me feel guilty.
Jo appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
"Can you still help me learn my spelling words?"
"On video calls," I promised.
"And I'll come see you."
Mom pointed at the girls.
"Look what you're doing to them."
Renee took the suitcase from my hand.
"The person hurting them is the one making them watch this."
We drove in silence until the streetlights turned into the gentler yellow of Renee's neighborhood.
Her small duplex smelled like coffee and lemon soap.
There was a spare room, clean sheets, a lamp, and a door that closed all the way.
I sat on the bed and started crying so hard I couldn't breathe.
Renee sat on the floor beside me.
"You can miss your sisters and still leave," she said.
"Those things don't cancel each other out."
"She'll tell everyone I abandoned them."
"Then people who care about the truth can ask me."
Later, Renee called the state records office about replacing my documents.
I asked whether my mother could legally keep them from me now that I was eighteen.
"She can't make you remain home," Renee answered.
"But getting replacements may take time. We'll start tomorrow."
I opened the banking app I used for depositing tips from catering events.
A new message appeared from a lender I'd never heard of.
FINAL NOTICE: GUARANTOR PAYMENT PAST DUE.
I showed Renee.
May you like
She read it once, then again.
"Zarya," she asked, very quietly, "have you ever signed a business loan?"
