CHAPTER TWO: ASHES AND CONCRETE
I didn't mean to stay.
I told her I would only need one night. Two, at most.
But Liora saw through me like she always did even when we were girls sneaking out of piano lessons or whispering secrets in the back of the academy.
"You're not going anywhere, Rina," she said firmly, folding her arms as I tried to pick up my torn purse. "You look like you haven't eaten in days, and your hands are shaking."
I opened my mouth, but nothing came out.
What was I supposed to say? That I had nowhere else? That even the shelters I'd passed looked at me with suspicion?
"Liora…" I whispered, ashamed. "I don't want to be a burden."
She didn't flinch. "Then be a guest."
I blinked, tears rising fast.
This small, one-bedroom apartment wasn't meant for two. Her fridge was nearly empty, the power flickered every few hours, and the water ran rusty in the morning.
But somehow… it was the warmest place I had ever known.
Liora worked night shifts at a nearby diner. She left in the evenings with her hair pulled back, her uniform smelling faintly of grease and lemon soap.
She never complained.
Not once.
Even when she returned with blisters on her feet, even when she had to split her last meal with me, she smiled.
And she never asked questions about what happened.
Not until I was ready.
One afternoon, as rain tapped gently against the windows, she set down a bowl of soup in front of me. Thin, but warm.
I hadn't realized how hungry I was until the smell made my stomach clench.
She sat across from me, watching.
And then, softly, "Was it true?"
I didn't have to ask what she meant.
The scandal was everywhere.
"Not the way they said," I whispered. "Not even close."
Her eyes stayed on mine. "Do you want to tell me?"
So I did.
I told her everything, the wine, the locked door, the stranger in the shadows, the pain. How Zarek and Alora had stood there with their champagne and laughter as my world collapsed.
I didn't cry this time.
My voice was calm, my hands steady.
But inside, I was fire and ash.
When I finished, Liora reached across the table and took my hand.
"I believe you," she said.
I started looking for work the next day.
It wasn't easy.
No one recognized me without the Ravenwood name. And when they did, it only made things worse.
"Didn't you sleep with a homeless man?" one manager said, snickering. "Aren't you the heiress-turned-harlot?"
Shame became a second skin.
One rejection after another.
Some doors were slammed before I even knocked.
And then one day, as I stood outside the Langston Plaza offices, soaked from rain, clutching my thin resume, I saw a flyer fluttering on a post nearby:
Cleaning help wanted. Discreet. No ID required.
I stared at it.
It wasn't much.
But it was something.
The building was old. Elegant, but tired.
Like me.
The manager, Mrs. Krenna, barely looked at my face. "Have you cleaned before?"
I nodded.
She handed me a bucket, gloves, and a list of floors. "Start on the executive floor. Try not to get in anyone's way."
I scrubbed bathrooms and vacuumed endless corridors. I learned how to make marble shine and erase fingerprints from glass without leaving a streak.
No one spoke to me.
No one noticed me.
I was invisible.
And for now… I preferred it that way.
Weeks passed.
And slowly, something inside me began to breathe again.
I didn't laugh. I didn't hope.
But I survived.
Until the day everything shifted again.
It started with nausea.
I thought it was from the cleaning chemicals, or maybe the leftover noodles I had eaten from Liora's shift meal.
But it didn't stop.
My hands trembled. My stomach churned. The scent of bleach made me gag.
And then, one morning, standing in the bathroom stall of the Langston building, staring at two pink lines on a test I hadn't even planned to buy…
My heart stopped.
I was pregnant.
I don't remember how I got home that day.
I only remember collapsing on Liora's bed, the test still clutched in my hand.
She sat beside me without a word.
I couldn't speak.
Because this couldn't be happening.
Not now. Not me. Not after everything.
"I have to get rid of it," I said hoarsely.
Her eyes widened, but she didn't argue. She just asked, "Are you sure?"
"I can't do this," I whispered. "I don't even know who he was."
A shadow passed across her face.
She held my hand tightly.
The next day, I went to the clinic.
I filled out the forms. Waited in silence.
When the doctor came in, I expected coldness. A lecture. Or worse, pity.
But his voice was kind. His eyes understanding.
He ran the scan.
And then turned the screen toward me.
Two small dots blinked on the monitor.
Two.
Twins.
My breath caught.
I couldn't look away.
"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked gently.
I opened my mouth… and nothing came out.
Because suddenly, I didn't know.
My entire world had fallen apart.
But here ....on this screen ..... were two tiny sparks of life.
Mine.
Maybe… the only part of me no one had taken.