Chapter 6 #2
“Yes. You know, ruling with absolute power, making decisions without input, generally being a tyrant.” I crossed my arms.
“I know what autocratic means, Ms. Tinsley.”
His fingers stilled on the keyboard. “She’s eight years old. Children want a lot of things that aren’t good for them.”
“True. But they also want things that help them heal. Things that connect them to happy memories.” I moved closer to his desk. “Ballet could be therapeutic for her.”
“Or it could set her back.”
“Have you considered that taking it away might have already done that?”
His eyes cut to me. “Careful, Ms. Tinsley.”
The warning in his voice was clear, but I’d already committed to this. “I’m just saying that sometimes what we think is protecting someone is actually isolating them. Lily loved ballet. She loved it with her mother, and maybe that’s exactly why she needs it.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Then explain it to me.” I kept my voice calm, reasonable. “Help me understand why letting Lily do something she clearly wants is a bad idea.”
He stood up, and every instinct told me to step back. Hector wasn’t physically intimidating in an aggressive way, but his presence took up space. Made the air feel thinner. And I was instantly reminded of our power dynamic.
This was his office, his home, his daughter. I was the employee pushing way past her bounds.
“Just think about it. That’s all I’m asking. Think about what Lily wants instead of what you’re afraid of.”
“That’s enough.” His voice didn’t get louder, but something in it made me stop. “This conversation is over.”
“Mr. Valdez—”
“Over, Ms. Tinsley. Unless you have something else work-related to discuss?”
The dismissal was clear. I could push further and risk my job, or I could back off and try again later.
“No,” I said. “Nothing else.”
I turned and walked out, my anger carrying me all the way to the elevator before I remembered.
The advance.
I’d completely forgotten to ask about the advance salary.
My finger hovered over the elevator button. Going back into that office after that argument and asking Hector Valdez for money? Absolutely not.
I’d have to figure out another way.
The elevator doors closed and my reflection stared back at me from the polished metal—angry and frustrated and completely out of options.
I had less than ninety days to find a hundred thousand dollars, and I’d just picked a fight with the only person who could actually help me.
The elevator hummed as it descended, the soft mechanical whirring somehow louder than my own thoughts. My pulse thudded in my ears. My palms were damp. I pressed them against my thighs, but it didn’t help. Nothing helped.
When the doors opened, I stepped into the lobby and forced myself to breathe. Slow. Controlled. Like I used to tell Colin when he’d get overwhelmed before a speech therapy session. Funny how I could coach other people through panic but couldn’t manage my own.
I walked outside, the cold air slapping me in the face like a reminder that the world didn’t care about my problems. The sky was gray, heavy with the threat of rain. Again. Because of course it was.
I started down the sidewalk, my steps quick and uneven. My mind kept replaying the argument in Hector’s office — his clipped tone, the way he’d stood up like he was done entertaining my opinions, the way he’d shut me down with that infuriating calm.
This conversation is over.
God, I hated how he said that. Like he was closing a file. Like I was a file.
But the worst part wasn’t the dismissal. It was the tiny, traitorous part of me that had hoped — just for a second — that he’d listen. That he’d consider it. That he’d care about what Lily wanted.
That he’d care about what I said.
I shook the thought away. Dangerous territory. No good came from expecting anything from men like Hector Valdez. They didn’t bend. They didn’t compromise. They didn’t soften.
Not for me.
I reached the corner and stopped, pressing a hand to my forehead. I needed a plan. A real one. Not the vague, desperate hope that something would magically work out.
I could pick up another job. Maybe a night shift somewhere. But even that wouldn’t be enough. Not for the amount I needed. Not for the timeline I had.
My stomach twisted.
I could ask Delia… No. She’d insist on helping, and I couldn’t drag her into this. Not when the loan sharks had already proven they’d go after people I loved.
I could sell things.
Except I owned nothing worth selling.
I could ask Hector.
Except I’d rather swallow glass.
I leaned against a lamppost, closing my eyes. The city moved around me — cars honking, people talking, someone yelling into a phone — but it all felt distant. Like I was underwater.
A notification buzzed on my phone. I pulled it out, expecting a message from Delia or maybe a reminder about a bill I’d forgotten to pay.
It was Colin.
Colin
Hey, sis. You okay? You sounded weird on the phone yesterday.
My throat tightened, but I replied.
Sarah
Just tired. Long week.
Colin
You sure? You can tell me if something’s wrong.
Sarah
I’m fine. Promise.
A lie.
Another one to add to the pile. I wanted to tell him everything. I wanted to say, I’m drowning. I’m terrified. They found me again. But I couldn’t. If he knew, he’d get on the next flight home. He’d drop everything and come running.
And then they’d have him.
I shoved my phone back into my pocket and kept walking, my steps slower now. He deserved better than this. Better than me. Better than the mess our father left behind.
By the time I reached the subway entrance, my anger had cooled into something heavier. Something like resignation. Something like fear.
I paused at the top of the stairs, gripping the railing.
I needed to talk to Hector again.
Not about ballet — not yet.
About the advance.
But the thought of walking back into that office made my stomach flip. He’d look at me with that unreadable expression, the one that made me feel like he was dissecting me molecule by molecule. And then he’d ask why. And I’d have to lie. Or tell the truth. And both options felt impossible.
I took a shaky breath and descended the stairs.
The train screeched into the station as I reached the platform. People pushed past me, the usual New York chaos swirling around like a storm. I stepped inside and grabbed a pole, letting the motion of the train rock me.
My reflection stared back at me in the darkened window — tired eyes, tense jaw, hair frizzing from stress and humidity. I barely recognized myself.
I used to be hopeful.
I used to believe things would get better.
Now I was just trying to survive long enough to keep my brother alive.
The train lurched, and I tightened my grip.
I needed to figure this out.
And whether I liked it or not, the only person who could help me was the same man I’d just called “autocratic” to his face.
Fantastic.
When the train reached my stop, I stepped out and climbed the stairs back into the gray afternoon. The air smelled like rain and exhaust. My apartment building loomed ahead, cracked bricks and peeling paint and all.
I pushed open the front door and trudged up the stairs. My key stuck in the lock again, and I jiggled it until it finally turned.
Inside, the apartment was dim and quiet. I dropped my bag on the couch and sank down beside it, burying my face in my hands.
I had no idea how I was going to fix this.
No idea how I was going to save Colin.
No idea how I was going to face Hector tomorrow.
But I’d have to.
Because I didn’t have a choice.
And because Lily had whispered “dance” and I wasn’t going to let that go.
Not for anything.
Not even for Hector Valdez.