Page 7

Gwen

“ I t’s good, right?” I chewed on my lower lip as the landlord looked over my apartment. I needed every penny of my deposit back.

Thanks to Austin, I had barely anything to move out, just a couple of things I could salvage, some basics the guys had gotten me, and a few items I’d lifted from the campus lost and found.

“It looks good. I’m sorry I couldn't let you stay any longer. You were a good tenant, and I had no idea you didn’t know that he’d given notice. I figured you’d both graduated and were moving,” he told me.

“I appreciate you giving me the time you did.”

As soon as I’d left, Austin had texted the landlord and said we’d be out in a week. Knotwaffle. The landlord found someone almost immediately and had already signed papers with them by the time I’d reached out.

After we finished the inspection, I grabbed my duffle bag, and a box, then went down the hall.

Mrs. Jenkins opened the door in her usual marabou robe. Today’s was black. “You have a safe place to go?”

“Yeah.”

“Did they catch him?” A cigarette dangled from her red lips.

“Not yet.” The police were basically like, “ Um, we can’t find him”.

Austin had disappeared. He’d left the state. None of his friends knew where he was. He was barely searchable online anymore as Austin Blake and I didn’t know his real name.

Honestly, I’d decided that I didn’t need an apology and I could live without an explanation, or the money he owed me, if it meant I’d never see him again.

“Thanks for everything.” I waved. My heart broke and a tear rolled down my cheek as I left the building and walked to the subway station, like I was going to work and not leaving forever.

I hoped Austin’s dad ran a pig farm.

At least he hadn’t stuck me with many utility bills.

However, he’d done something much worse. Something that derailed my whole tentative plan I’d built this week.

I’d been feeling hopeful because the financial aid office and Coach Hirata at NYIT had helped me find a little extra money. One of my NYIT teammates had an open bed in a townhouse a bunch of them rented, too.

Sure, I’d be in a cramped place full of athletes, but it might be doable if I was frugal. I’d have to work my ass off this summer, and I’d have to work a lot during the year. At least my scholarship included a meal plan during the school year, and the team fed us a lot.

Everything looked like it would work out.

Until yesterday, when the business office dropped a bomb that left me bawling.

Austin’s bank had canceled every single one of the tuition payments he’d made. I didn’t know he could even do that. Now I owed them everything. He had to do the one petty thing that would hurt me the most.

The business office had been sympathetic to my tears and given me until the start of the school year, which was in early September. Still, there was no way I could rent a place right now–even in a house full of people– and pay that now-owed tuition.

I sniffed. If Austin hadn’t promised to pay for this year, I never would have chosen to transfer to NYIT.

Dropping out was the obvious answer. Realistically, it would be better for me to stay and play my last year. I’d focus, find an agent, win another title for NYIT, and finish my degree.

Somehow.

Leaving the subway, I hurried down the street, running late for my shift. It was a good thing Tony said I could store my stuff at the rink. After years of working there, I knew all the good places. My community college team had practiced and had our games there, which was how I’d gotten to know Tony.

My Knights badge would get me even better places, safer places, as well as food and showers. Coach Kirov had given me summer access, and I knew where Chef kept the snacks.

Tony hadn’t said I couldn’t store myself there. I spent so much time at the rink no one would notice. I’d put in even more time there instead of picking up another waitressing job.

Slipping in through the back door, I made my way to the staff locker room. I shoved my bag in my locker and hid the box in the supply closet with the other few things I’d already stashed. Then put on my rink uniform.

One thing I’d also done this past week was a lot of soul searching. Like what would my nonna advise?

The last time I saw her she said, “ Even when you spread your wings, don’t forget your roots. They don’t stifle you, they just lead you home when you’re lost”.

That’s what I needed to do; find my way home on the ice and go back to my roots. Because I felt lost. Adrift. I’d gotten so wrapped up in Austin, and everything else, that I’d forgotten what mattered most.

You were good once. Austin was right. Sure, stats didn’t lie, but I’d buried a lot of what had once made me special out of fear.

It was time to find it again. Find her. Bring the sauce, as my nonna’s neighbors always told me–that thing that made you special on the ice.

“You’re late.” Tony eyed me as I clocked in.

“Sorry.” I hustled out to the snack bar.

Yeah, I’d find it. Right after work.

In the breakroom, I stuffed nachos in my face, replying to Carlos that yes, I was going to his mom’s for dinner tomorrow. I loved Carlos’ mom; she made the best enchiladas. Often, she brought them to games for me when I was on EBUG duty.

Since PHL teams usually only had two goalies, our job was to step in for either team should both of their goalies end up being sick, hurt, or otherwise unable to play. The Knights had three or four EBUGs that rotated, because we all played for our own teams, and one of us needed to be present at every home game. An EBUG going into play rarely happened. In my two years with the team, I’d never gone in.

Still, it was fun, and I learned a lot.

Usually, the EBUG on duty sat up in the press box, but they let me sit in the family section with the MASOs. The mates and significant others. While being in the press box was an experience, none of the MASOs were trying to pinch my ass, or making uncomfortable comments about how they could help me with my career .

Also, it was fun to get to know the players’ families.

“Everything went okay yesterday at the financial aid office? Your team won the championships. You think they’d find more money for you?” Tony came over to me as I finished eating.

I took a sip of lime soda as I kept my emotions calm, so he didn’t smell the lie. Alphas had much better noses than betas. He didn’t need to know what happened with my tuition.

“They found some, which helps. Coach mentioned reaching out to alumni, but I’m not counting on that. They are getting me a new laptop though.” I couldn’t use Clark’s forever.

“Good. What about gear?” he prodded.

“The company that sponsors our team is replacing my gear that my ex destroyed.” I liked their hockey skates well enough, but I was very particular about my goalie skates.

Also, I wasn’t a huge fan of how that company’s goalie gear fit me. Which was why Austin had gotten me goalie pads from Canadian Hockey Supply for my birthday–the ones he’d destroyed.

But hey, it was free and I wasn’t in a place where I could afford to be picky.

Part of why I was going over to Carlos’ mom’s was that he was going to help me try to get Austin’s graffiti off my good goalie mask.

“What about housing? Still not sure how you didn’t qualify for a student loan.” Tony frowned.

It had to do with everything done to protect me back when I was a teenager, and possibly because I was a dual-citizen. Everything was legal, but sometimes it flagged weird. It had taken some work to get my credit union account. Maybe if I called the loan place like I had the bank…

“I’m trying to move in with some of my teammates,” I replied.

He stayed there, eying me. “The Yeti’s been hanging around all week. You think maybe the Knights are thinking of him to fill Elias Royce’s place?”

“He would be a good choice.” I shrugged. Given Tenzin told me he’d moved to New York, I guessed that’s exactly what happened. But he hadn’t offered the information up and I didn’t want to pry.

I returned to work, switching from selling nachos and slushies to glow sticks and skate rentals. Blackout skate was always a good time, attracting a lot of teenagers and college students. The music was always fantastic–one of our frequent DJs did the music for all the Manhattan Maimer games.

After the initial rush for skate rentals, I scrolled on my phone, looking at all the fun things everyone was doing over the summer, while once again, I worked my ass off. Clark was at a fair. My friend Mercy was in London with some of her siblings. Even my hockey teammates that were still in town were going to a warehouse party tonight.

Jealousy spread through me. I wanted to go to a party.

Texting Tenzin was tempting. He seemed like a nice guy and I enjoyed our practices. The internet called him stoic. To me, he seemed quiet and shy. Something about him felt safe . Which was why I’d even consider going to coffee with an alpha I didn’t know well.

But I didn’t text him. Instead, I sent a silly picture to Clark, since he’d sent me a picture of a hay bale with a bow on it earlier, along with the caption hay girl .

“I can wear my own skates?” Tenzin stood there, dressed casually, eying the rows of rental skates, his hockey skates over his broad shoulder.

“Tenzin. What are you doing here?” I couldn’t help but grin. He’d come.

“I had a burning desire to eat nachos and skate in the dark.” He grinned back.

“Well, this is the place. Yes, you can use your own skates. You do have to wear things that glow in order to go on the ice though.” I pointed to my glow necklace.

He bought one and put it on, then struck a pose. “I’m amazing.”

“Too bad you don’t play tennis.” I grinned. That would be something we could do together.

Tenzin laughed. “Why tennis?”

“It’s good for goalies.” It was a fun way to work on hand-eye coordination and watching the ball. I guess golf was the same.

“Hmm, we’ll see,” he teased as he texted someone.

“Who are you texting?” You never knew with hockey players.

“Cooter says, Yes, it’s great for goalies, which is why I don’t do it. ” Tenzin laughed.

A couple of teenagers, wearing black-light-conducive hoodies with ears on them, came up to the counter, and got skates and glow lights from me.

“What does he do then?” My guess was that it was Cooter Brown, the goalie for the Sasquatches.

“Are you sure you want to know that? Cooter’s something else,” Tenzin told me, waving at a little girl who was watching him.

“Yeah, I do.” I was always interested in what other goalies did to improve during the off-season. Like Molly Crewe, the current shortest PHL goalie, who played for the Belugas, cross-trained through rock climbing.

“I’m not reading this out loud.” Tenzin put his hand to his face and showed me Cooter’s reply.

Cooter

Hookers and blow

I laughed. “Sure. Is he paying?”

Tenzin froze, phone in hand.

“I’m not flirting with him, and that’s not my thing. Never tried either.” I put my hands up in surrender, cheeks burning. Why did I say that?

“I’m hesitating because there’s a sixty-three percent chance that if I text him that, when I get home they will be in my living room even though he doesn’t have my new address. That’s just how he is. Also, he’s teasing. He actually swears by naked moon yoga, country line dancing, axe throwing, and fishing.”

He leaned in and whispered, “Goalies are weird.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. “Sometimes I do yoga in the park.”

“I know tennis is good for hockey players. But I never learned,” he confessed. “All my friends play golf.”

“I learned tennis as a kid, mostly to annoy my sister, who was fantastic, though I usually played with my mom.” A little pang shot through my heart. My sister had been as good at tennis as I was at hockey. Better probably. She was now mated with kids like a good little omega. Though she also loved her job. I hadn’t talked to any of my siblings in a long time.

Tenzin sent Cooter a text.

Tenzin

I’m going to tell your wife.

“Cooter’s wife is beautiful, right? Super smart. Nice.” Every PHL goalie I knew that was in a relationship had a partner who was smoking hot and majorly accomplished.

Cooter

Who do you think pays?

“Cooter doesn’t have a wife. We made her up. If she was real, oh, the things we’d tell her,” he laughed. “We had the rookies going for almost the entire season last year. Got them convinced she was this smart, pretty woman who could wrestle a bear, catch fish with her hands, scale walls barefoot, and swear with the best of them.”

“Sounds like a woman I’d like to know.” I laughed.

“Do you like line dancing?” His head ducked, and I realized there was a twang to his voice, like he’d lived in the south once.

I blinked. Line dancing? “I’ve never tried. I’m not sure you can do that in New York.”

A family came over and I helped them get skates and glow sticks. When I finished, Tenzin was still there.

“Don’t you want to skate?” Not that I minded him hanging out with me.

“Mostly I came for the company. While I had a great day, I came home and suddenly I didn’t want to be alone. I’m not getting you in trouble now, am I?” He looked over at the busy rink.

Aww.

“It’ll be fine, Tens,” I assured. “No one will care as long as I do my job. Can I call you Tens?”

He smiled. “Sure. Not many people call me that anymore.”

“Oh good, I wanted to check in case your ex called you that.” I got some more glow ears out from under the counter.

“Is there anything I shouldn’t call you?” he asked me.

I thought for a moment. “I don’t like being called Wendel . Austin’s, I mean, my ex’s, friends always called me that. They’re asshats. Most UNYC hockey players are.”

Also, the nickname Wendel was dumb. I wasn’t a Gwendolyn.

“That’s not where you go, right?” Tenzin leaned up against the end counter, so he wasn’t blocking it.

“No. My ex went to UNYC. I go to NYIT, who has a rivalry with them.” The local state university versus the old fancy private one.

The main reason Austin pushed me to transfer to NYIT was because it was so prestigious. I didn’t care, but Austin seemed to think it would help me in the future.

Tenzin nodded. “I attended Crestdale.”

“Crestdale? Color me fancy,” I grinned. Crestdale was a prestigious, but bohemian private university on the west coast over in the Bay Area. Their mascot was an avocado, and they threw fake rats onto the ice every time their hockey team scored.

“Was your major designation studies or mid-century literature?” I joked. It was a humie, a humanities-based university, versus a techie like my school, which was science and technology-based.

“Film. With a double minor in marketing and graphic arts,” he laughed.

“You want to make movies?” That wasn’t something I expected. Language, law, or diplomacy maybe.

A couple of kids came over and bought glow ears. I made a mental note to make sure we ordered more. Ha! Here, Tony thought they wouldn’t sell.

“Nature documentaries,” he replied. “After I retire from hockey, I want to travel all over the world and hike, fish and document all of the beautiful places out there.”

“That sounds amazing. I’d love to travel one day.” I’d traveled some with my family when I was little, but that was a long time ago.

“What do you study?” he asked.

“I’m a forensic accounting major.” I straighten up the counter.

He blinked. “Accounting. NYIT is a science school, right?”

“Yep. No, they don’t have a business school. It’s part of the math department. A strange little subprogram that is forensic accountants, actuaries, and data scientists.” It was delightfully weird, and I loved it.

Last year, a theoretical mathematician came to talk to us about making a virtual supercollider.

“You keep the books for dead people?” His eyebrows rose.

“The kind of accounting that puts corrupt business people in jail, when they’re able to otherwise cover their crimes. One day, when I retire from hockey, I want to join the Bureau of Investigation.” Where I’d put away rich, untouchable alphaholes.

We were basically alone now, everyone out on the ice or in the snack bar, as the lights and lasers lit up the dark rink and music made my bones thump.

“Um, are you in New York for obvious reasons?” I whispered.

“My ex hates New York so she’ll never come visit me. She wants to be friends. I don’t.” He flinched, and I felt that.

“You don’t owe her that,” I assured.

We continued to talk, mostly about hockey and places we’d like to visit here in the city. Together, we compiled a list of restaurants, attractions, and activities.

“Have you been to the Natural History Museum?” he asked, as we divided the list into sections, adding in some suggestions from Cooter, that might be bars, and restaurants from another friend.

“When I was little. My grandparents lived upstate, and I stayed with them a lot, and even lived with them for a while. We’d occasionally come into the city.” Like to see a Knights game. “They passed away when I was in high school.”

Car accident. Or so the police told me.

Tenzin’s brows furrowed. “My parents died when I was thirteen. I moved across the world to live with my much older sister. We had no idea what to do with each other. But we’re good friends now.”

“What does she think of your move here?” I asked.

“She suggested it. Well, not New York, but that I move and start over.”

Desiree came over to me, sweaty and panting from ice duty. She eyed Tenzin. “My turn. One of Austin’s friends?”

“One of mine.” I didn’t like Desiree. The omega was part of the UNYC figure skating team and semi-dating one of Austin’s friends.

Her eyes rode over him as she let herself behind the counter, her sugary scent cloying. “Do you even have friends that don’t play hockey, Wendel?”

“No.” I shook my head, trying not to roll my eyes.

“Why are you even working here tonight? Don’t you usually work at Tito’s with Austin on summer weekends?” She sniffed, taking off her figure skates.

I took my hockey skates out from under the counter, which needed to last until my university got me new ones. “I don’t work at Tito’s anymore.”

She smirked. “They finally fired you. Wow! Is Austin working tonight?”

“Don’t know. Don’t care.” I laced up my right skate, trying to hide my anger. Finally fire me? I was a good server and my co-workers were pissed since I was always willing to sub for people if I was available.

Her look went to one of mock concern. “Oh. My. Goodness. Did you and Austin break up? Haven’t you been together since high school? But did you really think once the Aces signed him he’d stay with you? I mean, you know he’s going to marry a posh omega from some fancy omega academy. He mentioned that to Windy.”

“Good for him.” I wasn’t sure about that. An omega, sure. One from a top omega academy? It depended on who his family was and whether or not he was hiding a pack, or potential pack, from me, too. I started on my left skate.

Omegas didn’t have to attend omega academies. The top ones were competitive with elite universities and conservatories. These omegas weren’t just mating top packs after graduation, they were also going into exclusive graduate programs, or taking positions with prestigious companies.

Some of them were so accomplished that they were named omegas of note. Competition for an omega like that was fierce. My mom had been one of those omegas once.

Desiree laughed as she stood, fluffing her hair. “It’s okay to be jealous. Not everyone can be an omega. Pity he didn’t even think enough of you to have you in his pack.”

“Don’t want to be an omega and I want nothing to do with Austin, who, by the way, did not get signed by the Aces,” I replied, getting to my feet, and putting my whistle around my neck.

I had four perfect omega sisters and zero desire to go through all that bullshit. Do not recommend.

Desiree huffed. “It’s that attitude that lost him. That and you don’t even care about your appearance. Your hair is fried and your roots? Disastrous. What happened to your forehead? You could at least hide it with some makeup before work.”

I spun around. “I dumped him when he threw the fucking skate I bought him at my head. He also ruined all my shit when we broke up. And no, I didn’t do anything to make him do it and I didn’t leave him because he didn’t get signed. None of this is my fault.”

“Oh.” She frowned a little.

I left the counter and turned the corner where I sat down on a bench and sobbed. The gravity of being truly alone, with no safety net, weighed on me.

“He hurt you.” Tenzin’s voice grew rough as he sat next to me, his citrusy-yet-woodsy scent wrapping around me. It was like going for a walk in a fruit grove at sunset.

“He’d never done that before, and he never will again,” I sobbed.

“I’m so sorry he did that. I’m glad you’re done with him. You deserve better.”

Did I really? I wiped the tears off my face with the hem of my work shirt. Sometimes I wondered. Given everything in my past, it would make sense if I never got a love of my life. However, Tenzin seemed like such a nice guy.

“I need to get to the ice. You… you can come with me if you like.” I sniffed, my nose stuffy with sadness.

He stood and held out his hand. “I’d love that.”

I hesitated, because you didn’t just let strange alphas touch you. But I closed my smaller hand around his large one. He helped me up, and we made our way onto the ice.

The music was loud, which wasn’t conducive to talking, but people were still laughing and having fun. Clothes glowed under the black-light, as the lights, glow sticks, and lasers lit up the rink.

The outer rink was meant for everyone to skate around clockwise. The center was mostly figure skaters showing off, even though they were supposed to keep the tricks to a minimum during nights like this given it was dark.

Immediately, people started dancing as the song changed to one made popular by the Manhattan Maimers. I put my whistle between my lips, directing people who were trying to do the full routine, to go to the middle, so no one crashed into them.

Skate smash was like team speed skating in a circular loop where you could physically stop other skaters from getting ahead–and getting ahead scored points. They also did fun routines on the ice before games and dance battled with the other team.

People liked to learn the routines. A couple of Maimers had shown me some of theirs. However, the main part of the rink during blackout skate was not the place to do them. Because, injuries.

Blowing my whistle again, I moved some kids out of the way before teenagers crashed into them.

The night continued. Finally, a group of teenagers pleaded with me to let them have the ice to do one of the skate smash dances. Since it was near the end, I cleared it with the manager on duty and the DJ made an announcement.

“You might want to clear the ice. I’m going to stay on, since I know this one,” I told Tenzin. It was a really fun mix.

The people who knew the dance took to the ice. The music started and everyone began the routine. It wasn’t nearly as cohesive as when the Maimers did it, because they all had specific roles, while this was more of a free-for-all. I did the routine as well, keeping an eye out for crashes, since this one had a couple of jumps.

The song finished, and everyone returned to the ice for the final few songs. Tenzin came back on and stood in the center with me, and we took a couple of laps. The night finished and we cleared everyone off the ice.

Fatigue pressed on me, but it was well after midnight. I helped Desiree take all the rental skates back, then clean and sanitize them.

“You looked good out there, doing the dance in hockey skates.” Desiree frowned, like it shouldn’t be possible.

I shrugged. “I like to mess around on the ice sometimes.”

Okay, I’d done some competitive figure skating back in the day. While I liked it, I liked hockey more.

The DJ played a few songs she knew we liked for us to clean up by. The ice resurfacer was going and my other co-workers gathered trash and urged people to return their skates and leave.

“Are you dating already ? He’s on your team?” Desiree looked over at Tenzin.

“It wouldn’t be any of your business if I was. But no, he’s my friend. You can be friends with alphas.” I rolled my eyes as I put aside a pair of skates that needed sharpening.

We finished that task and I inventoried the glow sticks.

Tenzin had his skates over his shoulder. “This was fun. Thanks for inviting me. Are you here for much longer? I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.”

“I’m almost done. Might get in some practice if I’m up for it. Want to stay? Or… we could get that coffee?” I offered, inwardly wincing at how needy I sounded. Sure, I was tired, but I suddenly didn’t want to be alone.

Conflict flickered across his face. “I’d love to, but I’m so tired I might fall asleep on the subway and miss my stop.”

Real. I’d done that before.

“Oh. Another time then.” I tried to hide my disappointment.

“I promise to find the best muffins in the city for you. Maybe after you get off of camp on Monday?” he offered.

“I’m working here Monday night, but I definitely can fit in coffee after camp.” I’d need the caffeine.

“You work a lot here. I understand needing to work through university. I did. But is that even legal?” He frowned.

I nodded. “Camp isn’t run by the rink. Also, I need all the hours I can get given I was fired from my job at Tito’s. It’s a bar the Knights like.”

“Um, did your ex destroy your goalie skates or do you not like them?” he asked. “I’ve only ever seen you in hockey skates.”

“I wear hockey skates a lot at the rink and when teaching kids who might not have them. My ex destroyed my backup goalie skates and my good gear. My good goalie skates were toast after winning the division championship for my university. I was saving for a new pair, because I’m picky, but I spent that money on a pair of skates for Austin.” I rubbed the cut on my forehead again.

“Which do you like? Curious if it’s the brand Cooter likes.”

I got out my phone and pulled up the website for Thunderbolt. “These are what I usually get. I’ve worn them for years. I sort of want that new model. There’s also this one from Bowerman that I’d love to try. At the same time, I’m not sure I want to spend that sort of money and risk not liking them.”

They were a more upscale company than the hockey brands I preferred. But not as expensive as what I’d gotten Austin.

“I’m hoping to save up before the season starts, but I might just have to use perfectly good free skates that my team will provide me with, even if they’re not what I prefer. Listen to me, I sound so spoiled.” I laughed.

He grinned. “You’re allowed to be particular about your gear. Yes, you like the same brand Cooter does, just a different model.”

“I have tiny narrow feet. Cooter probably doesn’t,” I replied.

“They’re boats,” he laughed. “Anyhow, thank you so much for the invitation. See you Monday morning.”

My heart twinged a little as he left. I finished up, helping in other areas, since I needed the hours and had nowhere else to be.

Afterwards, I got my stuff and went to the small rink to run drills. The rink was quiet, just some pair skaters practicing in the main rink. Lights shined up in the executive offices on the third floor. Someone was working late.

The lights were off by the time I’d finished, so I headed upstairs, and got in a land workout, then lifted some weights in the small weight room. I hit the showers in the small upstairs staff locker room, then found the never-used storage closet I’d picked out as a sleeping spot.

There were a bunch of old cardboard cutouts of the team in there, which blocked off part of the closet, making a nice hidey-hole.

I made a bed out of old stadium blankets and cushions I’d found in another closet. It wasn’t that comfortable, but it was only the first night.

Still…

I could reach out to my oldest brother. He’d help me in a moment. But if I did, I risked him telling the dads.

No. It was better to be free and sleep in a closet than involve my family.

Instead, I texted Tenzin.

Me

This is Gwen. Thanks for keeping me company tonight.

It was nice. I was looking forward to seeing who he deemed having the best muffins in the city.

Clark had sent a bunch of videos on insta-chat, mostly chronicling his day, what he fixed, what he ate. At one point, his little sister bombed the video and made faces.

A new video popped up. “Look, Ladybug.”

The video moved and an expanse of stars filled the screen.

“There you are.” His finger pointed, then a highlighter circled a group of stars.

I peered at the video, replaying it to get a closer look. I sent a new one, careful so my surroundings weren’t obvious. “What is that?”

He sent me another video. “It’s you. It’s called the golden beetle, but I’d like to think it’s the ladybug .”

I replied. “You’re so silly, Clark. The stars sure are pretty. Go to sleep. Where are you?”

“It’s not as late here,” he laughed, sending a new video. “I’m on the roof of the barn.” The camera spun around, showing me his parent’s home. “Good night, Gweny. Sweet dreams.”

My body yearned for sleep–and I was playing tennis with Carlos in the morning. I’d found a racket in the gym lost and found when I was last on campus.

Usually I’d listen to forensic accounting podcasts before bed. Some of them were quite interesting, especially the true story ones, where they detailed how companies and powerful people had been brought down.

Instead, I found the playlist I’d been listening to all week. It was one my friend Mercy had up on Musify. She had the best stuff, including a lot of good songs I’d never heard of. This playlist was called My big sister’s sad girl playlist Number 2.

I was a sad girl.

Shutting off the light of the storeroom, I put on the music, curled up in my little makeshift bed, and cried myself to sleep.