[Hazel]
Actually, by morning, the anger had already worn off. Burned out. Dissolved somewhere between brushing my teeth and realizing I had exactly twenty-three dollars in my checking account.
I mean, what was the point of being mad anymore? I can't afford the luxury of holding grudges. Not when rent is late, bills are stacked like Jenga blocks, and my fridge holds little more than baking soda and disappointment.
So I told myself, Hazel, be smart about this. Pretend like you’ve done Elijah a huge favor by forgiving him. Smile. Be civil. Get your job back. And take the compensation that he was offering. That was the plan.
"Opportunist." The voice inside me echoed. But I didn't let that make me feel like an ass. Because here’s the truth no one likes to say out loud—self-respect doesn’t
