“You ready for this?” Zoe asked, eyeing Valerie in the hallway.
Valerie took a deep breath and nodded. She loved their new neighborhood in Logan Square—small but cozy apartment, friendly bodegas, and tree-lined streets buzzing with life. Chicago felt like a living, breathing beast, full of unwritten rules she was still learning. All she needed was a little grit and patience to make it her home.
She slipped her hand into her blazer pocket, feeling the small bottle of calming lavender oil she’d tucked there. Two hours until the interview. Maybe, just maybe, today would be her lucky day.
Valerie’s nerves were frayed. This job wasn’t just about her—it was about Tessa’s future too. She had to push past the fear and focus.
“So, what’s the job?” Zoe asked, popping a stick of gum in her mouth.
“Assistant manager,” Valerie replied. “It’s a company that supplies groceries to local stores. Sounds like they’re desperate for help, so they’re hiring fast.”
“Pay any good?” Zoe asked. She wasn’t job-hunting herself—her parents still worked and helped cover her and Parker’s expenses.
“They said it’s enough to start,” Valerie said, her voice tinged with doubt. “If they don’t bump up the salary later, I’ll have to keep looking.”
“Don’t stop looking now,” Zoe advised, snapping her gum. “Always have a backup plan.”
Valerie nodded, though she hated the idea of job-hopping before even landing one. It felt disloyal, like she was betraying a boss she didn’t even have yet.
She knelt to tie her sneakers, then kissed Tessa’s cheek. Looking at Zoe, she felt a rush of gratitude.
“I don’t know what I’d do without you,” Valerie said sincerely. “You’re a lifesaver.”
“Girl, you help me out too,” Zoe grinned, offering her a peppermint candy from her purse.
Valerie tucked the candy into her blazer pocket next to the lavender oil—her good-luck charms for the day. The interview loomed like a high-stakes game, its outcome impossible to predict.
In the past two months, she’d been to a dozen interviews. Two degrees, some solid work experience, and still—nothing. Only one company bothered to call back, just to say she wasn’t a fit. Each rejection chipped away at her hope, replaced by growing panic. But she couldn’t let fear win. She had to stay calm for Tessa.
Fifteen minutes later, Valerie was on a CTA bus, headed for the Blue Line. Another ten minutes, and she switched trains at Clark/Lake. The office was downtown, a trek that didn’t faze her. She’d sacrifice hours for a chance to provide for her daughter. No trust fund, no rich relatives—just her own hustle.
Checking her watch, she relaxed slightly. She had enough time to grab a quick drink before the interview. Coffee was out—too jittery. Tea would do.
On the train, Valerie double-checked her bag. Resume, references, ID—all there. She sighed, glancing at the other passengers. They seemed so carefree, scrolling on their phones, not sweating a make-or-break interview.
Half an hour later, she stepped off at the Monroe station and spotted the sleek office building across the street. With thirty minutes to spare, she ducked into a nearby Starbucks. Ordering a chamomile tea, she settled at a corner table and stared out the window. Chicago pulsed with energy—honking cabs, rushing pedestrians, a city that didn’t care about her struggles. In her few months here, she’d learned one thing: nobody hands you anything. Except Zoe. Thank God for Zoe.
Sipping her tea, Valerie rehearsed her pitch. She’d mention her top performer bonuses from her old job at a Peoria grocery chain and the extra incentives she’d earned for smashing sales goals. Those had to count for something. She opened her eyes, glancing outside, when something caught her attention. Across the street, on a sweltering August afternoon, the humid air thick and heavy, an older man clutched his chest and slumped against a brick wall.
Without hesitation, Valerie tossed a few bucks on the table and bolted out of the café. Dodging traffic, she reached the man, who was clearly in distress. Passersby kept walking, not even glancing his way. Valerie’s heart sank at the city’s indifference.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, kneeling beside him. He groaned softly, clutching a manila folder. She gently set it aside and loosened his tie. Grabbing a water bottle from her bag, she held it to his lips.
The August heat was brutal, the pavement radiating warmth. No wonder he’d collapsed.
“Pills… in my briefcase,” he rasped.