I didn't eat breakfast Wednesday morning.
There was nothing in my apartment to eat,the last of the instant ramen was gone, and I couldn't afford groceries until Friday when my paycheck hit. I'd been skipping meals for weeks now, rationing whatever I could scrape together, drinking coffee to suppress the hunger.
The good news was that Apex Industries provided free lunch in the company cafeteria for all employees. Hot meals, decent quality, unlimited portions. It had been designed as a "perk" to keep people working through lunch, but for me, it had become something else entirely.
It had become survival.
I got dressed in my usual outfit,thrift store blazer, black slacks, scuffed flats,and took the subway to work, my stomach growling the entire way.
Just make it to noon, I told myself. Just six more hours.
***
The office felt different since Victoria's visit two days ago.
People looked at me strangely now,not with pity like after Grandma's restaurant disaster, but with something more complicated. Curiosity. Wariness. Like I'd crossed some invisible line by calling Adrian, by getting involved in "executive personal matters."
Marcus had stopped by my cubicle yesterday afternoon, voice low. "Hey. You okay?"
"Fine."
"That whole thing with Victoria Ashford was insane. You did the right thing, calling Adrian."
I'd just nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
"People are talking," he'd continued carefully. "Saying you're... I don't know. Brave? Stupid? I can't tell which camp is winning."
"Probably stupid," I'd said.
He'd laughed, but it sounded forced. "Well, for what it's worth, I think you were brave. Standing up to someone like Victoria Ashford? That takes guts."
I hadn't told him about the phone call at 2 AM. Hadn't told him about lying awake, waiting for consequences.
I just said, "Thanks, Marcus," and went back to my spreadsheet.
Now, Wednesday morning, I kept my head down and worked. Financial projections. Quarterly forecasts. Numbers that would be presented by someone else.
At 11:45 AM, Ava stopped by my cubicle.
"Elena, are you coming to lunch?" She was wearing a high-necked blouse again,I'd noticed she'd been wearing them more frequently lately. Covering something. "A few of us are going to the cafeteria. You should join."
My stomach was cramping with hunger, but I hesitated. "I was going to work through—"
"Come on. You need to eat." She smiled, genuine warmth in her expression. "And I wanted to thank you again. For Monday. What you did with Victoria was... it meant a lot."
"It was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing. She was terrifying, and you stood up to her when no one else would." Ava's hand went to her throat briefly, an unconscious gesture. "Anyway. Lunch?"
I looked at my computer screen, at the work that would still be there when I got back, at the numbers that never changed no matter how long I stared at them.
"Okay," I said. "Lunch."
***
The cafeteria was on the second floor,a large, bright space with floor-to-ceiling windows and rows of tables. The food was served buffet-style: a salad bar, hot entrees, soup, sandwiches. Nothing fancy, but substantial. Real food.
I grabbed a tray and moved through the line, my mouth watering. Roasted chicken. Rice. Steamed vegetables. A bread roll. I took one of everything, trying not to look desperate, trying to ignore the hollow ache in my stomach.
This was my meal for the day. Maybe the only real meal I'd have until Friday.
I found a seat at a table near the windows with Ava, Marcus, Jenna, and a few others from the analytics team. For a moment, sitting there with my tray of hot food and the sun streaming through the windows, I felt almost normal.
Almost human.
"This chicken is actually good today," Marcus said around a mouthful.
Jenna laughed. "The bar for 'good' is pretty low when it's free."
"Free food is always good food," I said quietly, and everyone laughed like I was joking.
I picked up my fork, ready to take my first bite in nearly twenty-four hours—
"Well, well. Look who's playing happy family."
The voice cut through the cafeteria noise like a knife.
I looked up.
Victoria Ashford stood at the entrance to the cafeteria, wearing another designer suit,navy this time, with gold buttons that probably cost more than my monthly rent. Her hair was perfect. Her makeup was perfect. She looked like she'd stepped out of a boardroom and directly into my nightmare.
And she was walking straight toward our table.
The cafeteria had gone quiet. Everyone was watching.
"Ms. Ashford," Ava said, her voice tight. "You're not supposed to be here. Security was notified—"
"Security works for the Ashford Foundation, darling." Victoria's smile was sharp. "We donated fifteen million to this building's renovation. I can go wherever I please."
She stopped next to our table, her eyes scanning each of us before landing on Ava.
"I've been thinking about our last conversation," Victoria said. "And I realized I was too harsh. I should be more... understanding."
"Victoria, please." Ava's hand was shaking slightly as she set down her fork. "I don't want any trouble."
"Neither do I." Victoria picked up a glass of water from a nearby table,someone's water, she just took it,and held it thoughtfully. "I just want you to understand something."
She poured the water over Ava's head.
Ava gasped, pushing back from the table as water soaked through her hair, her high-necked blouse, dripping down onto her lap.
"Victoria!" Marcus stood up. "What the hell—"
"Sit down," Victoria said calmly, and something in her voice made him sit.
The entire cafeteria was frozen. No one moved. No one spoke.
Victoria set down the empty glass and smiled at Ava, who was sitting there dripping, looking shocked and small and humiliated.
"That's for Monday," Victoria said. "For making me look like a fool in front of Adrian's employees."
Then she turned to me.
My heart stopped.
"And you." Victoria's eyes were cold. "You're the one who called Adrian. Who interfered. Who thought you could play hero."
"I was just trying to—"
"I don't care what you were trying to do." She looked at my tray of food,the chicken, the rice, the vegetables, the bread roll. The meal I'd been waiting for all day. "You should have minded your own business."
She picked up my tray.
"Victoria, don't—" I started, but it was too late.
She dumped the entire tray over Ava's head.
Food cascaded down,chicken, rice, vegetables, everything. It landed in Ava's wet hair, on her soaked blouse, splattered across the table. Gravy dripped down her face. A piece of chicken slid off her shoulder onto her lap.
The cafeteria was absolutely silent.
Ava sat there, covered in water and food, her eyes wide with shock. She looked like she might cry.
Victoria set the empty tray down on the table with a sharp clack.
"There," she said. "Now we're even."
She turned to leave, then paused and looked back at me.
"Oh, and Elena? This is what happens when you stick your nose where it doesn't belong. Next time, maybe you'll be smarter."
Then she walked out, heels clicking against the tile, leaving chaos in her wake.
For a long moment, no one moved.
Then Ava started crying,quiet, shaking sobs. Jenna jumped up and grabbed napkins, trying to help clean her off. Marcus was already on his phone, probably calling security or HR.
And I just sat there, staring at my empty space on the table where my tray had been.
My only meal of the day. Gone.
***
"Elena, I'm so sorry."
We were in the women's bathroom twenty minutes later. Ava was trying to clean food out of her hair with paper towels, mascara running down her cheeks. I was standing by the sink, numb.
"It's not your fault," I said automatically.
"But she used your food. Because of me. Because you tried to help me." Ava's voice cracked. "I'll buy you lunch. Or we can order something. Please, let me—"
"It's fine."
"It's not fine!" She threw the paper towel in the trash, her hands shaking. "Nothing about this is fine! That woman is insane, and she's targeting you because you stood up for me, and I just—"
She broke off, covering her face with her hands.
I wanted to comfort her. I wanted to tell her it would be okay. I wanted to be a good person, a good friend, someone who could rise above this.
But all I could think about was the food dripping down her face. The chicken. The rice. The bread roll.
My meal. Gone.
"Ava," I said quietly, "I need to get back to work."
"Elena, please—"
"It's fine," I repeated. "Really. Just... forget it."
I walked out of the bathroom before she could say anything else.
***
I worked through the rest of the day with my stomach cramping.
By 3 PM, I was light-headed. By 4 PM, my hands were shaking. By 5 PM, I could barely focus on the screen.
Marcus stopped by my cubicle. "Hey. Want to grab dinner after work? My treat. After what happened in the cafeteria—"
"I'm fine," I said. "Thanks, but I have things to do."
"Elena—"
"I'm fine, Marcus."
He left, looking worried.
At 6 PM, I packed up and took the subway home. I had $3.47 in my bank account until Friday. Not enough for dinner. Not enough for anything.
I'd have to wait.
In my apartment, I lay on my Murphy bed and stared at the water-stained ceiling, trying to ignore the hunger, the dizziness, the hollow ache that had nothing to do with food and everything to do with the slow, grinding realization that nothing I did mattered.
I'd tried to do the right thing,stop Victoria from assaulting Ava, call Adrian, be professional.
And I'd been punished for it.
My food thrown away. My stomach empty. My position even more precarious than before.
Ava got the water and the food dumped on her, but people would rally around her. Adrian would comfort her. She'd get sympathy, support, maybe even more devotion from him for "suffering" through Victoria's jealousy.
I just got hungry.
My phone buzzed. A text from Ava.
*Elena, I'm so sorry about today. Please let me make it up to you. Lunch tomorrow? My treat. I mean it.*
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I turned off my phone and closed my eyes.
***
I woke up at 3 AM to sirens.
At first, I thought they were far away,an ambulance, maybe, or a police car on the main road. But they were getting louder. Closer.
I sat up in bed, disoriented, and smelled it.
Smoke.
I stumbled to my window and looked out. Fire trucks were pulling up in front of my building. People were streaming out of the front entrance in their pajamas. Smoke was billowing from the ground floor.
My apartment was on the third floor.
I grabbed my phone, my wallet, my keys. That was it and my laptop. That was all I had time for before the fire alarm started screaming.
I ran.
***
By the time I made it outside, half the building was on fire.
The flames were visible now, licking up the side of the structure, black smoke pouring into the night sky. Firefighters were shouting, unrolling hoses, evacuating people from the upper floors.
I stood on the sidewalk in my pajamas,an old t-shirt and sweatpants,watching my entire life burn.
A firefighter approached me. "Did everyone make it out? Do you know if anyone's still inside?"
"I don't know," I said. My voice sounded far away.
"What unit are you in?"
"3C."
He consulted his radio. "Third floor's compromised. I'm sorry, ma'am. You won't be able to go back in tonight. Probably not for weeks."
I nodded.
"Do you have somewhere to go? Family? Friends?"
I thought about Grandma in her facility in New Jersey. I thought about Marcus, who'd offered to buy me dinner. I thought about Ava, who'd texted to apologize.
"No," I said. "No one."
The firefighter looked sympathetic. "There's an emergency shelter two blocks east. They'll have cots, some basic supplies. I'm sorry."
He moved on to the next person.
I stood there in my pajamas, clutching my phone and wallet, watching the flames consume the building.
Everything I owned was inside. Photos of Grandma,the only copies I had. My clothes. My documents. The few pieces of furniture I'd scraped together over three years.
All of it. Gone.
The landlord was talking to a fire marshal, gesturing angrily. "—faulty wiring in 2B, I told them it needed to be fixed, but corporate kept delaying—"
Faulty wiring.
That's what they'd say. That's what would go in the report.
But I knew better.
I pulled out my phone and saw I had one new voicemail. From an hour ago, before I'd woken up to sirens.
Unknown number.
I pressed play.
The same male voice from before. Flat. Professional. "Ms. Ashford wanted to make sure you understood. This is what happens when you don't mind your own business. She suggests you learn from this."
The message ended.
I stood there on the sidewalk in my pajamas, my entire life in ashes, and thought about Victoria Ashford walking out of the cafeteria with her perfect hair and her gold buttons and her cruel smile.
*Next time, maybe you'll be smarter.*
A woman next to me was crying, being comforted by her boyfriend. An elderly man was arguing with the firefighters about his cat. A mother was wrapping a blanket around her shivering daughter.
Everyone had someone.
I had my phone, my wallet, and the clothes on my back.
I looked up at the building,at the third floor where my window used to be, now just a gaping black hole pouring smoke,and felt something crack inside me.
Not loudly. Not dramatically.
Just a quiet, final breaking.
I turned and walked away from the burning building, away from the emergency shelter, away from the firefighters and the crying neighbors and the flashing lights.
I walked until I found a 24-hour diner, went inside, and sat in a booth in the back.
The waitress approached. "Coffee, hon?"
"Yes," I said. "Please."
She poured me a cup and left.
I sat there alone, in my pajamas, with $3.47 to my name and nowhere to go, and stared at the black coffee I couldn't afford.
Victoria Ashford had taken my food.
And then she'd taken everything else.