Kathern parked her scooter on the curb outside Gussie's apartment building. She grabbed the plastic bags filled with heavy bottles of bleach and surface cleaner from the floorboard and marched up the three flights of stairs.

She shoved her key into the lock and pushed the door open. The deafening sound of a reality TV show blasted from the living room.

Glenwood was sprawled across the center of the sofa. One leg was thrown over the armrest. He was aggressively chewing a handful of potato chips, letting the greasy crumbs fall freely onto the carpet.

He turned his head as Kathern walked in. A nasty smirk twisted his lips.

"Look who's back," Glenwood mocked loudly over the TV. "Couldn't find a sucker to take you in, huh?"

Kathern didn't even look at him. She walked straight past the sofa and went into the guest room. She grabbed the handle of her massive, pre-packed suitcase and dragged it out into the hallway.

The hard plastic wheels scraped loudly against the wooden floorboards.

Gussie ran out of the kitchen. Her hands were covered in thick white dish soap bubbles. When she saw the suitcase, her face crumpled. Tears instantly spilled over her eyelashes.

Gussie rushed forward and grabbed the top of the suitcase with her wet hands.

"Kathern, please don't do this," Gussie cried, her voice trembling. "I'll find a night shift. I'll pay your half of the rent. Just don't leave."

Glenwood snorted loudly from the sofa.

"If you take one dime of my money to pay for her," Glenwood threatened, pointing a greasy finger at Gussie, "I'll file for divorce tomorrow."

A surge of pure, hot rage shot through Kathern's veins. She snapped her head toward the sofa and glared at Glenwood with such violent intensity that he physically recoiled, pulling his leg off the armrest.

Kathern turned back to her sister. She reached out and gently wiped the tears off Gussie's cheek with her thumb. She grabbed Gussie's wrist and pulled her toward the small dining table.

Kathern unzipped the front pocket of her backpack. She pulled out the marriage certificate—the thin piece of paper she had picked up at City Hall— and slammed it down onto the wooden table.

Gussie stared at it. Her hands shook as she reached out and picked it up.

Gussie's eyes locked onto the official seal and the two names printed on the marriage certificate. Her breath hitched in her throat. Her eyes widened in absolute horror.

Gussie jumped up from the chair so fast it tipped over and crashed onto the floor.

"What is this?" Gussie gasped, pointing a shaking finger at the paper. "What did you do?"

The crash made Glenwood sit up. He walked over to the table and looked down at the certificate. He threw his head back and let out a loud, barking laugh.

"You actually did it," Glenwood sneered. "You dragged some homeless bum off the street to marry you just so you wouldn't have to pay rent."

Kathern's hand shot out. She grabbed the half-full glass of cold water sitting on the table and threw the liquid directly into Glenwood's face.

Glenwood shrieked. The cold water dripped down his nose and soaked his shirt. His face turned purple with rage. He raised his fist and lunged toward her.

Kathern's hand darted to the heavy ceramic fruit bowl on the table. She gripped its thick rim, her knuckles turning white, and lifted it like a bludgeon. Her eyes were completely dead, devoid of any hesitation.

"Take one more step," Kathern whispered, her voice dangerously low.

Glenwood froze. He stared at the heavy ceramic object poised to smash his skull, then looked at the absolute lack of fear in Kathern's eyes. He cursed under his breath, wiped his wet face with his sleeve, and backed away, retreating into his bedroom.

The living room fell dead silent. Gussie collapsed onto the floor. She buried her face in her hands, trembling not just from the marriage certificate, but from the sheer, terrifying escalation of violence she had just witnessed, and began to wail.

Gussie grabbed the fabric of Kathern's jeans. "It's my fault," she sobbed hysterically. "You sold yourself to some old creep because I'm too weak to protect you. You ruined your life for me."

Hearing the raw agony in her sister's voice made Kathern's throat burn. Her own eyes filled with hot tears.

She dropped the heavy bowl on the table and dropped to her knees. She wrapped her arms tightly around Gussie's shaking shoulders, pressing her face into her sister's hair.

"I didn't sell myself," Kathern said fiercely into Gussie's ear. "He's a good person. I promise you."

Gussie shook her head wildly, refusing to listen, just repeating the word 'sorry' over and over again.

From the bedroom, Cody woke up from the shouting. He started screaming at the top of his lungs. The sound of her baby crying snapped Gussie out of her spiral. She sucked in a ragged breath and stopped crying.

Kathern grabbed Gussie's arms and pulled her up from the floor. She smoothed down Gussie's messy hair, her mind racing to build a story that would stop her sister's heart from breaking.

Kathern guided Gussie over to the sofa and pushed her gently down onto the cushions. She walked into the kitchen, poured a fresh glass of warm water, and carried it back.

She pressed the warm glass into Gussie's hands. Gussie's fingers were still trembling violently. She looked up at Kathern, her eyes red and swollen with grief.

Kathern took a deep breath. She sat down on the coffee table directly across from Gussie. She reached out and wrapped her hands around Gussie's cold fingers.

"I need you to listen to me," Kathern said, forcing her tone to sound light and casual. "I didn't marry a stranger. Bronson and I met six months ago at that big craft fair in Brooklyn."

Gussie blinked. The sheer terror in her eyes faded slightly, replaced by heavy confusion. "What?"

"He bought one of my necklaces," Kathern lied smoothly, keeping her eyes locked on Gussie's. "We started talking. We exchanged numbers."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Gussie asked, her voice raspy.

"Because he's incredibly shy," Kathern invented, leaning forward. "He's an introvert. We wanted to keep it quiet until we were sure. Getting married today wasn't a sudden panic move to escape Glenwood. We planned this."

Kathern pulled her phone out of her pocket. She quickly opened a dummy messaging app she used for testing shop notifications and pulled up a fake, generic text thread she had quickly typed out before leaving her new apartment. She held the screen up, showing blocks of text without a profile picture.

"See? We spent most of our time talking online. We only met in person a few times, so we didn't take any photos together yet," Kathern said.

Gussie stared at the small screen. The glare from the overhead light made the text hard to see, but she searched Kathern's face for any sign of deception. Kathern kept her expression completely open and relaxed.

Gussie let out a long, shaky exhale. Her shoulders finally dropped from her ears.

She set the water glass down on the table. Her face shifted from panicked sister to a stern, protective mother figure.

"What does he do?" Gussie demanded. "How does he support himself?"

"He works at the Vaughan Group," Kathern answered, keeping her answer vague, just as Bronson had been on the form. "He makes a stable income."

Gussie nodded slowly. The name of the massive corporation seemed to ease her anxiety.

"And the apartment?" Gussie pressed, her brow furrowing again. "Whose name is on the deed?"

Kathern's stomach did a nervous flip, but she kept her face blank. "It's his apartment. He bought it before we met. It's just his name."

Gussie leaned forward and grabbed Kathern's wrist hard.

"You have to protect yourself," Gussie said, her voice dripping with the bitter experience of her own failed marriage. "You cannot rely on a man's goodwill. You need your name on that deed."

Kathern felt a sharp headache building behind her eyes. The idea of asking that cold, arrogant man for half his property was laughable, but she needed Gussie to calm down.

"I know," Kathern lied, nodding her head. "I'll talk to him about adding my name when the time is right."

Gussie stared at her for a long moment, then finally let go of her wrist. She stood up and walked into the bedroom where Cody was now quiet.

A minute later, Gussie walked back out. She held a crumpled white envelope in her hand. She shoved it aggressively into the side pocket of Kathern's backpack.

"There's three hundred dollars in there," Gussie said, her eyes watering again. "I saved it from the grocery money. Buy yourself some nice clothes for your new husband."

The heat rushed straight to Kathern's eyes. She reached into the pocket, pulled the envelope out, and shoved it forcefully back into Gussie's apron pocket.

"I have my own money from the shop," Kathern said firmly. "Keep it. Buy Cody his formula. And if Glenwood ever touches you again, you call me immediately."

Gussie let out a choked sob and threw her arms around Kathern's neck. They hugged tightly. Kathern squeezed her eyes shut, fighting back the tears.

Kathern pulled away. She grabbed the handle of her heavy suitcase and walked out the front door.

The heavy wooden door clicked shut behind her. Kathern stood in the hallway and let out a massive, exhausting breath. Her chest felt hollowed out.

She dragged the suitcase down the stairs. She lifted the heavy luggage and used two bungee cords to strap it securely to the back seat of her scooter.

Kathern looked up at the window of Gussie's apartment one last time. She pulled her helmet on, started the engine, and drove away toward her empty new life.

The September wind whipped against Kathern's jacket as she navigated the scooter through the thick city traffic. The cold air seeped through the denim, making her shiver.

Half an hour later, she pulled into the parking lot of the Maplewood Complex. She parked the scooter in the designated spot for Building B.

She unhooked the bungee cords, grabbed the handle of the heavy suitcase, and dragged it across the asphalt toward the glass entrance doors.

She swiped her card, stepped into the elevator, and watched the digital numbers tick upward. With every floor, the hollow feeling in her stomach grew heavier.

She stepped out on the eighth floor and unlocked door 802.

The apartment was exactly as dead and silent as she had left it. The fresh air from the open window had cleared the stale smell, but the emptiness of the rooms echoed loudly in her ears.

Kathern dragged the suitcase into the master bedroom. She unzipped it and started pulling her clothes out. Since there was no closet or dresser, she carefully folded her jeans and shirts into neat stacks on the corner of the bare mattress.

When the suitcase was empty, she walked out into the kitchen. She stared at the completely bare countertops.

Her stomach let out a loud, aggressive growl.

Kathern pulled her phone out of her pocket and checked the time. It was exactly 6:00 PM.

She realized she hadn't established any basic ground rules with her new roommate. She didn't know if he expected her to cook, or if he was bringing food home.

Deciding to take the high road and be polite, she opened her contacts and tapped on the ten-digit number Bronson had given her.

She typed out a quick message: "Mr. Bronson, it's Kathern. Are you coming home for dinner tonight? Do you need me to buy anything?"

She hit send. A green text bubble popped up on the screen.

Kathern tossed the phone onto the mattress and walked toward the bathroom to wash the city grime off her face.

She had barely taken two steps when the phone vibrated loudly against the bedsprings. Thinking he had replied quickly, she turned around and picked it up.

She looked at the screen. Below her green bubble was a line of bright red text.

Message Not Delivered. You have been blocked by this number.

Kathern froze. She blinked hard and rubbed her eyes, staring at the red letters to make sure she wasn't hallucinating.

A sudden, violent spike of anger shot straight from her stomach to her brain.

She gripped the phone tightly and threw it violently onto the soft mattress. It bounced once and landed face down.

She put her hands on her hips and started pacing rapidly across the empty bedroom floor. Her breathing grew heavy.

"Unbelievable," Kathern muttered out loud, her voice echoing off the bare walls. "What an absolute jerk."

She had tried to be civil. She had tried to treat this business arrangement with basic human decency, and he had treated her like a piece of trash to be discarded.

She stopped pacing. She glared at the phone. She wasn't going to just sit here and swallow this insult.

She walked over, picked up the phone, and scrolled through her contacts until she found Eleanor's number. She hesitated for a split second, feeling bad about dragging an old woman into this, but the anger burning in her chest pushed her thumb down on the call button.

The phone rang three times before Eleanor picked up.

"Kathern? How is the new place?" Eleanor asked warmly.

Kathern took a breath. She forced her voice to sound small and slightly hurt.

"The apartment is fine, Grandma," Kathern said. "But... I just tried to text Bronson to ask if he has any food allergies so I could make dinner, and the message bounced back. I think he blocked my number."

Dead silence fell over the line.

Then, a loud, furious gasp echoed through the speaker.

"He did WHAT?" Eleanor roared, her voice shaking with rage. "That ungrateful, arrogant boy! I am so sorry, Kathern. I will handle this right now."

"It's okay," Kathern said, injecting a tone of sweet understanding into her voice. "He's probably just really busy at work and pressed the wrong button."

"I'll teach him about pressing the wrong button," Eleanor snapped. "Give me five minutes."

The line went dead.

Kathern lowered the phone. The corners of her mouth curled up into a sharp, satisfied smirk. Let the arrogant corporate drone deal with that.