Renee’s phone went quiet after that.
She eventually arrived at the grocery store, pissed off and with little patience left. She grabbed the bare minimum as she rushed around, aware that her next shift was around the corner. Bread. Cereal. Canned soup. The cheapest versions of everything. She moved through the aisles fast, head down, counting totals in her head as if every cent were a lifeline.
At the checkout, she shoved the receipt into her bag without looking at it, heading straight for the car.
Driving home, her thoughts raced. She reflected on her mom’s treatment and the insurance paperwork left untouched in her emails for weeks. Guilt weighed heavily on her. If she had addressed it earlier, things might have been less complicated. Maybe her mom wouldn’t be so ill. Perhaps she woul
