Page 30 of Hey, Daddy

Milena muttered under her breath, “Strike two.”

I snorted and filled out the application, making sure to put my real information on it and not my fake.

My phone started to violently alert in my purse, and I sighed before reaching in and silencing it.

My sister started to mumble under her breath as she took the phone out of my purse and looked at it.

She unwrapped a bar of chocolate and handed it to me.

“Oh, we don’t allow food in our facilities.”

“You’ll allow it this time,” Milena countered.

I quickly ate the bar of chocolate while filling out the application and stuffed the wrapper into my pocket.

When I was finished, the attendant took the application from me and glanced at it. “I have to allow the office manager to check this over.”

She left then, leaving me and my sister standing there alone.

“Do you not notice when you start getting that low?” Milena asked. “And do you think you’ll pass that application?”

“Yes, because I’ve already been approved by the owner of the facility,” I said. “She was quite excited to have me reach out to her. She follows my blog. When I told her about my quest for a dog in a comment, she directed me to her shelter.”

“Cool,” she said. “You didn’t answer about the noticing if your blood sugar is getting low or not.”

“That’s because I’ve had so much experience ignoring how I felt that I don’t pay attention to it anymore,” I admitted.

That was true, too.

From an early age, I couldn’t ever remember “feeling good.”

Like there was no moment in time where my body felt great.

Everything always felt off, and so I just got used to the feeling.

“Um, I’m sorry, but your application was denied.” The young woman came back with a smug expression on her face, trying to be masked by a polite one.

“Really,” I said carefully. “Is that right?”

“Yes.” She smiled, trying not to look like she wasn’t happy about the prospect.

“Do you mind telling me on what grounds that my application was denied?” I requested.

“Um.” She frowned. “Sure. I can go ask my manager.”

“How about you just bring your manager out here?” I suggested.

She looked slightly worried now, almost as if she’d gone back there and faked that she had her manager take a look at it.

“Ma’am?” I pushed.

“I’ll see if she’s willing to come out.” She hurried away.

The door to the room behind me opened, and I refused to turn around to look.

Boots sounded behind me, and Milena looked over her shoulder.

I saw the moment her eyes widened and knew that she’d come to the same conclusion I had.

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