Chapter 3
The city was huge, bustling with traffic and people.
Hazel was scared, gripping Charlotte's hand tightly, her body trembling slightly.
Charlotte wrapped her arms around Hazel protectively, comforting her. "Mom, don't be afraid. I'm here."
She led Hazel into a world that was entirely foreign to them.
All the money they had together was less than 200 dollars.
She'd scrimped and saved every penny over three years of high school through academic awards and quiet side gigs typing manuscripts.
She didn't dare stay in a hotel.
Instead, she found a windowless basement room in a rundown part of town where the sun never reached.
The air was thick with the smell of damp and mold, and water stains covered the walls.
But this was the only spot she and Hazel could settle in this city.
After settling Hazel in, Charlotte looked at the little money left in her wallet and felt a pressure she'd never known before.
She still had no clue how to pay her tuition, and Hazel couldn't go without her meds. She had to find a way to make money now.
Campus work-study wouldn't open until the semester started. And washing dishes at a diner meant shifts too long to leave Hazel alone.
Charlotte forced herself to stay calm.
She grabbed her battered old phone, hooked it up to the landlord's Wi-Fi, and started desperately scouring the university forums and local gig sites for any job she could land.
A listing suddenly jumped out at her: [Urgent: High-Paying Private STEM Tutor. Requirements: Near-perfect SAT/AP Science scores, extreme patience, capable of handling a rebellious teenage boy. $200/hr.]
200 bucks an hour. The rate cut through her bleak reality like a ray of light. Her science score on SATs was near-flawless.
Without hesitating, she dialed the number on the post.
The woman who answered sounded cool and sharp, dripping with skepticism. "Are you a student?"
"Yes, ma'am. High school graduate." Charlotte replied.
"Which college?"
"Norvail University."
A beat of silence lingered on the line. Then the woman said, "I'll text you the address. Be here at three sharp for a trial session. Don't be late." The line went dead.
Charlotte took a deep breath, eyeing the gated community address on her screen.
This was her chance. She couldn't afford to let it slip away.
*****
Charlotte set out lunch and water for Hazel, locked the deadbolt, and reminded her never to open the door for strangers.
Throwing on her only clean, crisp button-down shirt, she rode the bus for an hour and a half to the upscale district.
Stately ancient oaks shaded quiet streets lined with lavish estates. It was an entirely different universe from her damp basement.
She matched the numbers and pressed the doorbell.
The door swung open to reveal a middle-aged woman in a tailored suit, her makeup immaculate and her eyes sharp and assessing.
She gave Charlotte a slow up-and-down look, furrowing her brow. "You're the tutor?" she asked, her voice as cold as on the phone. "A teenager expecting that kind of rate?"
Charlotte didn't shrink back. Meeting the woman's gaze head-on, she held her ground with steady composure. "Ma'am, you aren't looking for a bargain tutor. You're looking for someone who gets results."
She paused, her voice laced with quiet conviction. "Give me thirty minutes, and give your son a real shot."
A flash of surprise flickered in the woman's eyes. She was clearly caught off guard by the frail-looking girl's grit. After a tense silence, she stepped aside. "Come on in."