Page 96 of Fake for 7 days

Desperate, I slid down the wooden back wall of the small shelter onto the ground.

What now?

I was alone. I was cold, soaked to the bone, in a place I didn't even know the name of. I no longer had a phone to call for help or money to take a bus. Neither to New York nor anywhere else. Slowly, I crawled from the back wall of the shelter to the front where my bag lay. I looked inside. At least the guy had left me my apartment key.

Not that I could get home, and the apartment practically belonged to the bank already.

I grimaced in despair. I couldn't even cry anymore. Everything inside me was empty.

At that moment, a car stopped on the street right in front of me.

With a mixture of fear and hope, I looked up.

The guy?

Carter?

Don't be silly, Isabella. It's neither of them. The guy probably doesn't even have a car, and Carter certainly won't come to get you.

The window of the silver SUV rolled down. I struggled to my feet and peered inside. A red-haired woman with a friendly face looked at me. She seemed vaguely familiar.

"Hey. I saw you at the wedding earlier. Are you okay? Can I help you?"

I studied the woman. And then I remembered. She had helped set up the buffet. She probably worked for a catering company.

"Yes. You can help me. I want to go home," I replied and burst into tears again.

Chapter 26 ~ Isabella ~

Sixweekslater

Wrong door, Isabella, wrong door.

This thought flashed through my mind as I stood in front of my apartment door, about to insert the key into the lock.

My apartment was no longer my apartment.

It was my FORMER apartment.

Several weeks had passed since the redheaded lady from the catering company had picked me up at the bus stop and her colleague had taken me to New York. A lot had happened.

I hadn't been able to pay the next installment on the bank loan, and the bank had reacted immediately: Given my dire financial situation, I wasn't granted any further extension for paying my installments. The apartment was currently being foreclosed, and I had already been forced to move out.

When I first learned of this decision, I had been sad. Angry. Desperate. Hopeless. Where would I go? But then I had seen the whole thing as an opportunity for a fresh start. What did I want with an apartment I had once bought together with a man who turned out to be an asshole? It was time for me to move on.

And suddenly, moving on wasn't so far away after all.

I turned around, walked past the elevator, and inserted the key into the lock of the door on the other side of the landing.

Hayley's apartment.

Or rather, Hayley's and my apartment.

My neighbor and friend had saved me once again. I had feared I would have to disturb my sister Joanna during her vacation. I didn't want that at all. And I also didn't want to move back in with her and her husband. I loved my sister more than anything. But she had her life, and I had mine. I wanted to stand on my own two feet, and that included getting by in a shared apartment and making ends meet with my own money instead of throwing myself into my rich sister's arms whenever something went wrong.

When Hayley heard that I had to move out, she confessed that she had been thinking about taking in a roommate for a long time. A few days later, I had moved in on the other side of the landing and sold the furniture I no longer needed. At least that way I could cover the most necessary expenses.

I unlocked the door.

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