Chapter 35 - Chapter Thirty Five

Gloria used the quiet hours to think because there was not much else to do between therapy sessions and the steady beeps of the monitors, and when David was gone she filled the time with planning for her recovery, writing down possible jobs on the pad the nurses left for notes, things like intake clerk, call support, even a floor aide role, anything that would keep her moving forward once she was discharged, and she kept herself distracted by caring for Buddy, the small stray puppy she had taken in after seeing him limp along the sidewalk near the clinic doors, ribs showing under his fur until a guard and a nurse helped her get him fed and vetted; Buddy stayed near her side now, curling at her feet and licking her fingers when she let crumbs fall from her crackers, and it was easier to stay positive with the warmth of a living thing leaning on her legs. She kept reading the news feeds too, catching chatter about a new city people were whispering about, pictures of clean towers, parks, jobs, and open streets with real light, and it felt almost like a dream whenever she scrolled through the shaky clips, but dreams were dangerous when reality was still bills and long recoveries, and she knew better than to latch onto hope without measuring risk. Still, the idea pressed at her: what if they could move there, what if this was their chance at a better life, away from the rent hikes and broken elevators of their building, away from the endless fear of what came next in Night City. She weighed the pros and cons each night, reminding herself that their car was scrap after the accident, that moving meant deposits and uncertainty, that David had his classes and his delivery job, that uprooting now could ruin the stability they had managed to find, but then she remembered how the air outside smelled cleaner every week, how the streams were running with fish, how real meat and vegetables were showing up in the markets again, and she thought maybe this was the time to take a risk. She didn't share it with David yet because he already carried too much, between his studies and his part-time delivery work, and she was proud he was keeping at it, telling her about assignments and classmates when he visited, laughing at small jokes about professors who didn't know how to work their tech, and she clung to that because it sounded like he was managing to build a life in spite of everything. She never saw the way his eyes drifted when he talked about "class," never guessed that he had stopped going after the bullying and the constant weight of being an outsider wore him down, because when he visited her he smiled, and when she asked he told her just enough to keep her believing. To her, he was still her son with one foot in school, one in work, and a steady hand on her own recovery. So when she watched Buddy chase his tail in the corner of her room and thought about those pictures of the new city, she let herself imagine them both there: her with a stable job that didn't leave her broken at the end of the day, David in college classes that mattered, maybe delivering medicine for a clean clinic without the constant stink of Corpo shadow over it, and Buddy running in grass that wasn't sprayed with chemicals. She knew better than to rush—she'd need transport, contacts, and David's agreement—but the thought wouldn't leave, and each day she leaned a little closer to the idea that maybe moving was possible after all.