[Bianca]
One week. That's how long it had been since my life went from bad to worse.
I always thought everyone had forgotten my existence after the years out of the spotlight, but somehow, I keep getting nothing but bad publicity.
When I tried to move into a new place on the day I got into an argument with Dante, I'd gotten accepted by the landlord only for him to change his mind the next. If it was just him, I wouldn't have been bothered, but no one seemed to want to have me as a tenant—not even a handful of hotels.
At first, I thought it was all just a coincidence. Maybe bad luck. Maybe something about my recent surgery made me seem like a risk. But then the rejections started coming with strange, rehearsed excuses like:
'We're at full capacity'. 'Something came up with the lease'.
