At 7:05am she heard Greg open the front door and pull it shut making a loud bang. Always slamming things. At least now I won’t have to look at his stupid doughy face again. Despite her growing disgust, Greg had been earning more money lately. His online tutoring business had blown up in a lucrative way since the pandemic started. Children being home-schooled turned out to be great for his business. Wealthy New York parents made sure their progeny kept up with their studies and hired tutors for their kids. Greg even had to turn down a few jobs because of the high demand: there were not enough hours in the day. Despite that, his moderately increased income would never be enough for Gabi.

Peeling off the bed sheets, she stood up and walked to the single open bedroom window that faced the red-brick wall. Just the sight of the bricks irritated her. It was not the glamorous view she longed for and had expected when she married him. She thought back to her teenage years, a time when she had worked so hard and saved everything she made for her eventual getaway to New York.

No one had known about the special relationships she had back in Mexico. A few times her mother had looked at her sideways after discovering an expensive bracelet or a pair of gold earrings in her daughter’s room. “Where did you get this jewelry from? These things cost a lot of money. You didn’t steal it, did you?” her mother had said suspiciously.

“No Mama, I don’t steal. I earn whatever I have.”

“Then, where did this come from?” her mother said, holding up a sparkly bracelet.

“Some boy gave it to me,” said Gabriela turning away.

Her mother squinted and stared at her daughter. “If a boy gives you a gold bracelet, he expects payment.”

“You’re so old-fashioned,” said Gabriela, making a tsk-ing sound with her tongue. “He was an ugly rich boy. I met him while I was working at the department store. He had so much money. The cost of the bracelet meant nothing to him. He only wanted to show off to impress me, so I let him buy it. What do I care?”

What Gabriela didn’t tell her mother was that the “rich boy” was actually a seventy-nine-year-old man who she had grown rather fond of. Señor Rodriguez was refined. He had always been kind and charming, and he never pushed her to do anything she was uncomfortable with. He did, however, reward her when she pleased him. She was simply doing a job, it was a way to save up for her move to America. She rationalized that anything she did for the señor was perfectly all right if it got her closer to New York and far away from her sad little town.