As she cracked the eggs into the pan, she couldn't help but smile. The day was starting out perfectly. The sun was shining, the birds were singing, and the kitchen smelled of freshly brewed coffee. She hummed along to the radio as she whisked the eggs and added a dash of salt and pepper. This was going to be a good day, she could feel it. She poured the fluffy mixture into the pan and watched as it cooked, mesmerized by the way the egg whites turned from translucent to opaque.

She carefully packed her nail polish and tools into her kit and slung it over her shoulder. As she walked to the subway station, she thought about the clients she would see that day. There was the regular who always asked for a simple French manicure, the stylish young woman who always wanted the latest nail art trend, and the sweet older lady who always loved a classic red. She couldn't wait to get to work and make her clients feel beautiful and pampered.

She stepped into the shop, greeted by the familiar scent of nail polish and acetone. It was like coming home. The shop was bright and cheerful, with colorful posters on the walls and a bubbling fish tank in the corner. She couldn't help but feel a sense of peace and contentment as she turned on the lights and settled in for the day. The first client was due in an hour, so she took a moment to organize her supplies and set up her work station. Everything was perfect, just the way she liked it. Other workers came in and greeted her as usual.

"Good morning, Camilla!" said Marissa, one of the most popular nail technicians in the shop.

"Morning Marissa, how are you doing today?" Camilla asked.

"I'm doing great! I'm glad to be back at work after the weekend. I always feel so rejuvenated after a day off." Marissa replied with a grin.

Camilla nodded in agreement. She felt the same way. There was something special about working in a salon, making people feel pampered and beautiful. It was like a little oasis of calm in the midst of a hectic world.

The door to the salon swung open, Camilla's heart skipped a beat as she saw her boyfriend walk in, hand-in-hand with another woman.

Camilla's surprise turned to shock when the woman called her boyfriend "babe." She knew that was a term of endearment, something you only said to someone you were close to.

She felt like she had been punched in the gut. Her boyfriend had moved on from her, and it was happening right in front of her eyes. She felt frozen, unable to speak or move. She wanted to run out of the salon, but she couldn't tear her eyes away from the scene in front of her.

Camilla's boyfriend approached her, a look of remorse on his face. "Can we talk over coffee?" he asked. She nodded, unable to speak. He led her to a nearby coffee shop, and they sat down at a table. He reached out to take her hand, but she pulled away. She needed to hear what he had to say before she could even consider forgiving him.

"I'm so sorry," he started. "I never meant to hurt you. It's just...

But Camilla could tell that his apology was empty. He wasn't truly sorry for what he had done. She could see it in his eyes, the way he kept shifting in his seat, the way he couldn't meet her gaze. He was only sorry that he had been caught. Her heart sank. She had thought they had something special, something that would last forever. But now she saw that he had never felt the same way.

Camilla's voice was barely above a whisper as she asked,

"Why her? What does she have that I don't?"

He looked down at his hands, avoiding her eyes. "It's not that you don't have anything she does," he said. "It's just... I don't know. I feel like I've been missing something, and she fills that hole."

Camilla felt like she'd been punched in the gut again. The pain was worse than anything she had ever felt before. She wanted to scream, to run away, to never see him again.

Camilla couldn't stand to look at him anymore. His words had stung more than any physical pain ever could. She had trusted him, believed in him, loved him. And he had betrayed her. She picked up the glass of water on the table and threw it in his face.

"Stay away from me," she said, her voice quivering with anger and pain.

She walked out of the coffee shop, not looking back. She didn't know what she would do next, but she knew she never wanted to see him again.

As Camilla walked back to the salon, the sun seemed to have lost its warmth. The world felt colder and darker than it had just an hour ago. She had been so happy that morning, thinking about all the plans she and her boyfriend had made.

They were going to go to Paris next summer, and maybe even get married someday. Now, all those plans seemed like a distant dream. She felt numb as she opened the door to the salon, trying to put on a brave face for her clients.

It was a long, hard day at work. Every time a client looked at her with concern, she had to put on a smile and pretend everything was okay. But inside, she was falling apart. She kept replaying the scene with her boyfriend over and over again in her head. She couldn't believe he had done this to her. She felt like she had been living in a dream and had just woken up to the harsh reality of life.

Finally, she got off work and went back home. Camilla turned the key in the lock, she felt a sense of dread. She knew something was wrong, even before she saw the note. It was propped up against the doorframe, her name written in her mother's familiar handwriting. She picked it up and read it, her heart sinking as she took in the news. Her mother had borrowed money from a predatory lender, and now the bank was threatening to foreclose on their house. She felt like the walls were closing in on her, like she couldn't breathe.

Camilla's mind raced as she thought about the implications of her mother's actions. The fact that she had used their house as collateral for the loan was bad enough, but the fact that Camilla was listed as a guarantor made it even worse. She felt like she had been betrayed by the two people she trusted most in the world. Her mind was spinning, trying to figure out what to do next.

She walked down the street, the world around her seemed to blur. She walked into the liquor store, feeling like a complete failure. The clerk behind the counter gave her a knowing look, but said nothing as she grabbed a six-pack of beer and paid for it. She walked out of the store, clutching the bottles like a lifeline.

Camilla was walking home, her head down, when she heard a voice call out to her. she looked up and saw two men, standing on the corner, smoking cigarettes. one of them was leering at her, his eyes roaming up and down her body. she felt a shiver of fear run down her spine. she knew who they were - the predatory lenders her mother had borrowed money from. she tried to keep walking, but they blocked her path.

"I hear your mother is having some trouble with her loan," one of them said, his voice low and threatening.

All she could think of at that moment was running away from them. Camilla's heart was pounding in her chest as she ran down the street. She didn't know where she was going, she just knew she had to get away from those men.

She turned a corner, her breath coming in gasps. She could hear them behind her, their footsteps echoing on the pavement. She ducked into an alley, trying to catch her breath and think of a plan. A car was driving through the same alley and her thought went wild.

As the car approached, Camilla saw an opportunity. If she could make the driver think she was about to be hit, he would stop the car. It was risky, but it was her only chance. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Then, she ran towards the car, throwing herself in front of it. The driver slammed on the brakes, narrowly missing her.

The car stopped and Camilla let her body go limp. She slumped to the ground, her head hit the hard pavement with a thud. She felt a sharp pain. As everything was going black, she heard the car door slap open and the driver came striding towards her asking if she was okay.

The man's voice sounded muffled, like he was speaking from far away. She could barely make out what he was saying. Everything was dark, and then it was nothing at all. She drifted off into a deep, dreamless sleep.