Page 25 of What Goes Around

I pushed myself upright, my muscles stiff. “What do you mean?”

She crossed her arms. “You’re not a child anymore, Ashley. You can’t just sit here feeling sorry for yourself. It’s been a month. If you’re not working by the end of this one, you’ll have to find somewhere else to stay.”

It took me a moment to process it.

“You’re serious?”

Her mouth tightened. “I’ve already done more than enough for you. Food isn’t free. Electricity isn’t free. And I’m not going to let your father see how lazy you’ve become.”

“Dad hasn’t even seen me,” I said. “He barely leaves that office.”

“That’s because he’s working,” she snapped. “Someone in this family still has a sense of responsibility.”

The words hit deeper than I wanted them to.

“I’m still healing,” I whispered.

Her eyes flicked to my cheek, then darted away like the sight offended her.

“Then heal faster.”

She turned and walked out.

I sat there for a long time after she left, staring at the closed door.

Something in me went quiet.

After that, I stopped expecting anything from them.

I never realized rejection could be so loud.

Not shouting or insults. Just polite smiles, hesitant glances, and the way doors closed before I could finish a sentence.

Every morning I forced myself out of bed, covered my scars as best I could, and walked out with a folder full of résumés nobody wanted to touch.

At the café on Maple Street, the manager looked at my face and flinched before she could hide it.

“Oh, we’re fully staffed,” she said. “But… you look familiar. You’re not…?”

Her voice trailed off, but the meaning hung in the air.

The girl from the wedding drama.

The one who “cheated,” who “ruined the engagement,” who “destroyed a family.”

A public villain wrapped in bandages and shame.

I felt my stomach twist.

“Yes,” I said quietly. “I am.”

Her expression softened, but only in the way people soften when they want to look kind without actually doing anything kind.

“Well, I’m sorry. We really don’t have any openings.”

I nodded, even though we both knew she was lying.

There was a “help wanted” sign on the door.