Chapter 10 - Home
January brought snow.
It also brought a notice from Elena’s landlord.
Rent would increase in March.
Anna found the letter on the counter.
This time, Elena did not hide it.
That was new.
“How much?”
“Seventy-five dollars.”
Anna did the math automatically.
“You can’t afford that.”
Elena gave her a look.
“We can.”
“You’re already working weekends.”
“I said we can.”
Anna crossed her arms.
Elena sighed.
“We may have to adjust things.”
“Like what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
Anna felt the old panic.
Money.
Always underneath everything.
Kayla’s insult had hurt because it touched something true.
Anna’s family did own very little.
They rented their apartment.
Owned one old car.
Had no investments.
No vacation house.
No donor plaque.
But Anna had begun wondering why truth about money had to become shame.
That evening, she told Dr. Shah.
“Kayla was wrong for saying it.”
“Yes.”
“But we really don’t own anything.”
Dr. Shah nodded.
“Does that make her right about what it means?”
Anna frowned.
“What?”
“She said owning less meant you belonged less.”
“No.”
“Then the fact and the insult are different things.”
Anna considered.
A simple distinction.
Powerful.
Her family did have less wealth.
That was real.
The conclusion Kayla attached to it was not.
At home, Elena was looking at job listings.
“What are you doing?”
“Thinking.”
“About?”
“My supervisor position.”
Anna blinked.
“You said you didn’t want it.”
“I said I didn’t want the schedule.”
The promotion at the home-health company meant more administrative work and less direct patient care.
Elena loved patients.
But the salary increase was significant.
“Would you hate it?”
“Maybe thirty percent.”
“That seems bad.”
“My current job is sometimes forty percent hate.”
Anna laughed.
Elena clicked the application.
“I’ve been afraid to change anything because your scholarship depends on us staying close enough to Westbridge.”
“It doesn’t depend on this apartment.”
“No.”
“And I can take the bus if we move.”
Elena looked at her.
“You hate the bus.”
“I hate rent increases more.”
They laughed.
Two months later, Elena became a care-team coordinator.
The salary did not transform their life.
They did not suddenly become wealthy.
But she dropped the weekend cleaning job.
For the first time in years, she had Sundays.
Anna liked that more than any new car.
They stayed in the apartment.
At school, the independent review of Front Gate continued.
Most disciplinary decisions were complete.
Sophie returned after suspension.
She apologized to Anna in the counselor’s office.
Anna accepted the apology.
Not friendship.
Mia slowly rebuilt trust with some students.
Ben became annoyingly proud of having “broken the scandal.”
Anna corrected him every time.
“You recorded one incident.”
“That’s investigative journalism.”
“You were sitting on a bench eating chips.”
“Deep-cover field operation.”
She smiled.
Then a harder problem arrived.
The Wellington Debate Foundation reconsidered Anna’s selection.
Not because of misconduct.
Because Westbridge had informed them of “ongoing student safety concerns” connected to the school.
The foundation decided the entire school team’s participation might need review.
Anna was furious.
“So Kayla still gets to take it from me.”
Mercer called the foundation.
The debate coach appealed.
Anna wrote a letter.
She explained she was the target, not the source, of the safety concerns.
She did not include unnecessary details.
Two days later, the foundation restored Westbridge’s eligibility.
Anna remained on the team.
At practice, another student said:
“You’re lucky Mercer fought for you.”
Anna looked at him.
“I earned the spot before he did anything.”
The student flushed.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
Anna was becoming good at distinguishing careless comments from malicious ones.
She did not need to turn every mistake into a war.
But she also did not have to swallow everything.
The Wellington tournament took place in New York in March.
Elena could not afford the hotel.
The school covered travel for selected students.
Anna almost refused out of pride.
Then remembered the scholarship existed for exactly that purpose.
She went.
Westbridge reached the semifinals.
Anna won an individual speaking award.
When her name was announced, she thought of Kayla.
Only for a second.
Then she thought of Elena watching the livestream from their couch.
That mattered more.
On the bus ride home, Ben texted:
Congrats, charity admission.
Anna stared.
Then:
I AM JOKING PLEASE DON’T REPORT ME.
She burst out laughing.
Idiot.
Award-winning idiot?
No.
When she got home, Elena had taped a handwritten sign to their apartment door:
WESTBRIDGE’S FAVORITE POVERTY TOURIST WINS DEBATE AWARD.
Anna stopped.
Then looked at her mother.
Elena smiled nervously.
“Too soon?”
Anna stared for another second.
Then laughed so hard she had to lean against the wall.
The insult had changed.
Not because it was suddenly acceptable.
Because it no longer belonged to Kayla.
Anna could take language once used to shame her and refuse its meaning.
Inside, dinner was cheap takeout.
Elena had bought a small cake.
No heirlooms.
No mansion.
No gate.
Just home.
May you like
And for the first time, Anna understood that having less did not mean having nothing.
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