"If anything happens to Annie, I will make you pay with your life!"
The car came to a smooth halt, pulling me back to the present.
"We're here," Paul said.
I opened the door and exited slowly, every movement a labor. My old injuries had left permanent damage; whenever it rained, a dull ache seeped from my bones.
I dug out a handful of loose change and held it out to him.
"Thank you for the ride. This is the fare."
Paul stared at the coins, then at me. His gaze was frosty. "I'm walking you up."
I shook my head. "Really, there's no need."
He didn't argue. Instead, he snatched my bag from my shoulder and marched toward the building entrance.
I sighed. Let him do what he wants.
Does he want to see how pathetic my life is now? Let him look. I don't care anymore.
We climbed eight flights of stairs. By the time I opened the door, my lungs were burning.
Inside, under the warm glow of a yellow bulb, a small figure hurled herself at me.
"Mommy!"
I smiled, the pain fading as I pinched her soft cheek. "Good girl."
Seeing the tall stranger behind me, my daughter shrank back, hiding her face in my coat.
"It's okay," I soothed her. "It's raining hard outside. This uncle brought Mommy home."