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For now.
I finally relax.
That is—until I see a letter beneath the door.
Cole sees it too.
“Since we won, I think that means we get a prize, right?” Cole says to distract Zander. “What about thirty minutes of TV before bed?”
I pick up the letter just as the theme song from Zander’s cartoon filters from the tiny TV in our bedroom. I’m filled with dread, already knowing what the letter will say.
My heart sinks. And sinks. Until it drops out of my body entirely as I read the words ‘EVICTION NOTICE’ in big red letters.
I’d tried so hard to avoid this. To keep a safe, warm place for Zander. A home.
It didn’t matter that I’d sold my truck to pay last month’s owed rent. Or that I worked pretty much every waking hour at the diner to try and get ahead. I was short again. And I had been since moving in.
As I scan the document, I see we only have three days to get out. That can’t be legal, but did I really want to deal with the harassment that would follow if I didn’t oblige? And I don’t have the time or money to fight it.
Maybe I could find the energy alone, but Zander’s peace of mind and comfort came first. How could I expect him to have that if we needed to play the quiet game daily?
Soon, he’d catch on that it wasn’t a game at all.
Still, without my truck, where are we going to go?
What am I going to do?
We have a home visit from the family department in less than a week. How can they see I’m taking good care of Zander if we’re homeless?
Overwhelmed and panicked with thoughts of them taking Zander away from me, I’m suddenly lightheaded.
I feel like I’m going to pass out.
And I do...
Right into Cole’s strong, tattooed arms.
