Page 34 of A Smile Full of Lies
“Your loss, sweetheart.”
No. His.
Because I might be broke, but I wasn’t blowing some power-drunk editor to save my career.
I walked out without looking back, and I was still shaking when I pulled back into my driveway.
The fury hadn’t faded, not even a little bit. It burned hot beneath my skin, a mix of rage and shame and helpless fucking grief. I gripped the steering wheel so hard my knuckles ached. Gran’s house loomed in front of me like it knew what kind of day I’d had. The porch light was off.
That wasn’t right.
I frowned as I climbed out, gravel crunching beneath my flats. The October air had that damp, coastal chill that stuck to your bones. I jogged up the steps and tried the porch light switch three times.
Nothing.
The bulb might’ve blown. But as soon as I unlocked the house and stepped inside, the suffocating silence and darkness wrapped around me like a shroud. No hum of the fridge. No buzz from the ancient air purifier Gran used to swear by. The house wasn’t just dim — it wasdead.
I tried the kitchen light. Nothing. Panic flared in my chest.
“No, no, no,” I whispered, rushing to the fridge. The second I yanked the door open, lukewarm air rushed out. The freezer was defrosted and leaking down onto the tile. Bags of frozen vegetables had gone soft. The tray of chicken breasts I’d been saving for the week glistened with melted ice.
My throat closed.
They’d cut my power while I was out at that dumpster fire of an interview, shut off just like the final notice said they would. No more grace periods. No more mercy.
I stood in the dark kitchen, light from my phone casting long shadows across the cabinets, and for the second time today, I wanted to scream.
I bolted for the living room, my heart pounding as I dropped to my knees beside the coffee table. My laptop was still where I’d left it, charger coiled on the coffee table next to it. I cursed out loud when I remembered that I hadn’t plugged it in before I left for the interview.
My pulse thundered in my ears as I flipped open the screen. The battery was low, of fucking course. I fired up the browser, then slapped myself in the forehead with the heel of my hand.
No connection. Of course not. I shook my head.
“If the power’s off, then your router has no power and can’t connect you to the internet, dumbass,” I grumbled, because talking to myself was better than the oppressive silence filling the house.
I pulled out my phone and opened the Wi-Fi settings, thinking maybe I could set up a personal hotspot via my phone.
I checked to see how many bars of service I had and was greeted with a “No Service” where the bars should have been.
I checked my texts and saw that I had one new text notification from my service provider.
Your account is past due and service has been suspended. Pay $217 today to restore service.
Fuck, they’d cut that too.
Without power, Wi-Fi, or phone service, I couldn’t even load job listings, let alone apply for anything. My freelance dashboard wouldn’t refresh. My inbox wouldn’t open. Every tab I clicked gave me a spinning wheel or a network error.
To make things worse, my useless ass phone was already on six percent battery.
I stared at the screen, chest heaving, a cold sweat breaking out down my back. The last of my gran’s funeral expenses had drained what little money I had. The freezer full of cheap bulk food I’d been stretching out was all ruined. I had no money. No power. No heat or AC. No internet. No light. Just this house, full of ghosts and silence, pressing in on me.
I wasn’t just broke. I was cut off and completely fucked.
The world was still spinning, people were still living, working, and getting paid.
And I couldn’t even charge my fucking phone, not that the damn thing would do me much good with the service cut off.
I sank to the living room floor, the worn carpet rough and unforgiving beneath me. My laptop sat useless in front of me, the low-battery warning glowing in the dark like a threat. My phone was down to four percent, and every breath felt harder to manage than the last — tight, shallow, and fucking useless.
