Chapter 2

May looked at me for a long moment. Her eyes got red. "You poor girl. All right. I'll go talk to them."

She turned and took a few steps, then looked back. "Nat, if the Sterlings agree, think of that 70,000 dollars as a gift from them. Don't think you're selling yourself. Marrying Timothy and living a good life from now on. That's the real sincerity."

"Nat, don't worry, I'll talk to them for you," May said.

She hesitated. "But you need to handle things on your side first. You and Mr. Linden are not really done yet. If he makes a scene later, it won't look good."

I was stunned for a second, then shook my head. "He won't."

He couldn't wait for me to leave.

Seven years ago, Owen wasn't like this.

Back then, the Lindens had only moved to the city a few years earlier. Their business was taking off. Owen was 17, in his second year of high school.

On his way home from school one weekend, he was kidnapped. The kidnappers wanted 700,000 dollars.

The Lindens called the police. The police searched for three days, but didn't find him.

The kidnappers took Owen to a half-finished building on the edge of the city. That place had been abandoned for years. Even homeless people wouldn't set foot there. But Grandma and I lived there.

Grandma was a trash picker. We couldn't afford rent in town, so we found a half-finished building that no one watched. We made a shelter out of plastic sheets and cardboard. During the day, Grandma went out to collect scrap. I stayed in the building and read by myself.

One evening, I heard some noise upstairs. I thought it was a thief or a homeless person, so I didn't dare make a sound.

Then I heard someone crying, muffled, like their mouth was covered. I crept upstairs and peeked through a crack in the wall. I saw two men and a boy tied up on the ground. It was Owen.

Owen's face was covered in blood. His eyes were swollen to slits. But he saw me. He didn't make a sound.

I ducked back. My heart was about to jump out of my chest. I wanted to run, but my feet felt stuck to the floor. I remembered Grandma had told me to be a good person and help when I could.

I didn't know where I got the courage. When the two men went downstairs to smoke, I snuck in and cut the ropes.

It was dark inside that building. I led Owen through the shadows, hiding. He was shaking all over. I put my hand over his mouth and whispered, "Don't make a sound."

The kidnappers searched for half the night. They didn't find us. At dawn, they left.

Before Owen left, he turned back and looked at me for a long moment.

*****

After he got home, he ran a high fever for seven days.

The doctor said it wasn't serious, just from the scare. But every night Owen had nightmares. He'd wake up screaming, and nobody could comfort him. The Lindens took turns staying with him. It didn't help.

Later, the Lindens found Grandma and me.

They stood outside our half-finished building, looking at the shelter we'd made from plastic sheets. Their expressions were complicated.

Owen's mother, Erica Linden, asked me, "What do you want?"

I couldn't speak. Grandma stepped in front of me and said, "We don't want anything. She just happened to save the boy."

Erica looked at Grandma for a long time. "How old is she?"

"Fifteen," Grandma answered.

"Does she go to school?" Erica asked.

"No, we can't afford it," Grandma replied.

*****

A few days later, someone came to tell us to move. The Lindens rented us a small apartment in the city with two bedrooms, a living room, a kitchen, and a bathroom. Grandma stood at the door and cried half the night.

A few days after that, they asked me, "Do you want to go back to school?"

Of course I did. I dreamed about it more than anything.

Just like that, I was back in school.

The Lindens had only one condition. When Owen had nightmares, I had to be there.

Honestly, it wasn't a big deal. He'd wake up in the middle of the night, and I'd go sit with him for a while and talk to him a bit. Then he'd calm down.

The doctor called it PTSD. In his memory, my face meant "safe" to him. Just seeing me made him feel at ease.

I thought that was the end of it.

*****

Then one day, Erica came to me. "You're almost done with high school. What are your plans?"

I said, "Go to college."

She said, "College costs money."

I didn't say anything.

She looked at me for a moment. "Here's the deal. Get engaged to Owen. Then you'll be part of our family. It's only right that we pay for your education.

"Owen has his heart set on you. He insists on marrying you. We can't stop him. But you need to know your place. Don't get any ideas you shouldn't have."

She added, "You saved him. We're grateful. We'll pay for your school, give you a home, and give you a good life. That's our way of saying thank you.

"But someday, Owen will take over the family business. His wife needs to be someone who can help him. You're a trash‑picker from nowhere. That won't do."

I understood. I said, "Okay."

Just like that, I somehow ended up as Owen's fiancée.