Chapter 3A Debt of Kindness

Nana’s surgery was a success. But when she was discharged, we had nowhere to go.

We ended up in a tent pitched under a highway overpass.

Renting an apartment, even a room in a cheap motel, would have eaten through our money. Every single dollar had to be stretched to its breaking point. I had no idea how much her follow-up treatments would cost.

All I could do was cut our expenses down to the bone. There were moments, many of them, when I regretted not taking that other fifty thousand.

But I also knew, with a certainty that settled deep in my gut, that even if I could go back in time, I still wouldn't have taken it.

If I had, the weight of it would have broken my spine for good. I’d never have been able to stand up straight again.

After two rounds of chemotherapy, Nana’s body was clearly struggling. She couldn’t stay in a drafty tent any longer. We moved into a cheap rental in a cramped, narrow alleyway.

Winter was coming.

It was so cold.

I found a job doing food delivery. I worked like a machine that never needed to rest, juggling deliveries and taking care of Nana. On the side, I’d take any gig I could find at the downtown clubs—promo girl, shot girl, anything to fill the gaps.

Whatever it took to make money.

That was the closest I ever came to falling into the abyss. I saw so many ways to make fast cash, easy money that preyed on the desperate.

My own sanity pulled me back from the edge.

If I truly fell, if Nana ever found out, she would rather die than accept another day of treatment.

Mr. Henderson and Anna found us during that time. They came to visit us once. I have no idea how much effort it took them to track down our new address.

“Tally,” Mr. Henderson said, his voice gentle. “You could always come back to the factory. We could find a less strenuous position for you.”

My fingernails dug into my palms.

“A less strenuous job would mean lower pay, wouldn’t it?” I asked, my voice hard and hostile. “Are you going to be charitable and pay me more than I’m worth?”

He nodded without a second’s hesitation.

I didn't accept the kindness. “I don’t need it. Are you pitying us? I can take care of my grandmother just fine on my own.”

They both opened their mouths to speak, then closed them. Their faces were etched with pain, but they didn’t say anything more.

Nana seemed scared of something. She waved her hands clumsily, rejecting the offer for me. “Our Tally isn’t going back to work there. Thank you. Thank you so much.” She stroked my scarred hand, her eyes filled with a raw terror.

The Hendersons finally left with a heavy sigh, looking back every few steps.

I watched their backs disappear down the alley and whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry.”

Forgive my rudeness. Forgive my ugly, twisted heart. My tough act was a sham, built on a foundation of my own despicable actions. I wasn’t a good person. At least, I didn’t feel like one.

Nana started crying, too. “It’s my fault, Tally. I’m a burden to you. This old woman… how could I drag down a child like this?”

I spun around and hugged her tight, terrified. “Don’t you dare say that. You’re all I have, Nana. You just get better. Everything is going to be okay.”

But would it?

Looking at her waxy, sallow face, a seed of helpless despair took root in my heart.

Nana didn’t speak, but the tears soaking into my sleeve said everything. One after another, an endless stream. She had suffered so much. How could I let her leave this world without knowing a single day of peace?

I absolutely could not.

That night, a plastic grocery bag appeared on our doorstep.

Inside were two containers of nutritional powder for seniors. Underneath them, stacked neatly, was fifty thousand dollars in cash.

Fifty.

Another sensitive number. I knew immediately who it was from.

I tried calling Mr. Henderson, but the phone just rang and rang, unanswered.

Nana gently touched my hand, my fingers chapped and rough from the cold. “Tally, stop calling. We’ll take it. And someday… we’ll find a way to pay them back.”

I looked at her, and her cloudy eyes were filled with a heartbreak that shattered me.

I nodded, turning my head so my tears could fall into the shadows.

It was the last stand of my youthful pride, my final, stubborn concession.