Sarah’s POV

“Mum? Mum, are you awake?” I whispered, nudging her shoulders gently.

Her eyes opened slowly, tired and dull, and my chest tightened at the sight. She tried to smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Every day, she looked a little bit weaker, and everyday i pretended not to notice because noticing scared me too much.

“I’m awake,” she murmured.

I rushed into the kitchen, putting water on the stove and grabbing the bread from the counter. Breakfast was simple, always was, but I made it carefully , like care could somehow fix everything. When I returned, I helped her sit up, supporting her back and shoulders the way I'd learned to do it over time.

She felt lighter than she should.

I fed her slowly, waiting for her to swallow before offering another spoon. When she finished, I handed her the medicine watching closely as she took it.

“I’ll be back before evening,” I said, forcing confidence into my voice.

She nodded, reaching out to squeeze my hand. “Be careful, Sarah.”

I kissed her forehead, grabbed my bag, and stepped out into the hallway.

That was when I saw him.

Mr. Clayton.

He stood outside another tenant’s door, knocking loudly, anger written all over his face. My heart dropped. I turned quietly, hoping to slip back inside or escape through the stairs.

“I know you saw me,” he shouted. “I’ll be waiting when you get back.”

I didn't look back. If I missed the bus, I'd lose the little money I had left, and I needed that for Mum’s drugs.

The bus finally arrived, crowded as usual. I squeezed myself in, apologizing as I pushed past bodies. There was nowhere to sit so I held onto the cold metal pole as the bus jerked forward.

Mr Clayton’s voice echoed in my head the entire ride.

I’ll pay him this week, I told myself. Somehow .

I opened my bag, checking the money. Not enough. Of course not.

Great.

When the bus stopped near my destination, I dropped what I could into the fare machine and stepped out, knowing I still had a long walk ahead. My hands shook as I adjusted my bag and started walking.

The streets were noisy and crowded. People brushed past me without a second glance. I held my bag tighter, calculating how long it would take to reach my next stop.

By the time I arrived, my feet hurt, and my head throbbed.

Dave Enterprises.

The building rose above everything else on the street, glass, steel, and power. I stood there for a moment, staring up at it, wondering how someone like me had ended up here.

You worked for this, I reminded myself.

Inside, everything felt too clean, too perfect. People moved like they belonged. I checked in at the front desk and was told to wait.

Ten minutes early.

My phone buzzed.

Jasmine: You better get that job. I didn't hype you for nothing.

I smiled despite myself and slipped the phone back into my bag.

“Miss Banks?”

I stood immediately.

“This way.”

The boardroom doors opened, and I stepped inside.

That was when I saw him.

Tom Dickery.

He didn’t smile. Didn’t stand. Just looked at me like he was already deciding my fate. His presence filled the room effortlessly, calm and cold all at once.

“Have a seat,” he said.

My heart pounded as I sat

The questions came, school experience, goals. I answered carefully, honestly. One wrong word felt like it could change everything.

“So,” he said finally, leaning back. “Why do you think you belong here?”

I met his eyes. “Because I worked for it.”

Silence.

“And if you fail?” he asked.

“Then I’ll learn,” I said. “But I won't shrink.”

Something flickered in his eyes, interest, maybe irritation.

“Thank you, Miss Banks,” he said. “That will be all.”

Dismissed.

As I walked out, my heart raced. I didn’t know if I’d just ruined my chance or changed my life.

But one thing was certain.

That interview was only the beginning.

And Tom Dickery was not a man who would forget me so easily.