“He can’t do that. Mr. Whitaker promised—”
Miguel stopped
abruptly, as if he had almost revealed something. I told him that Julian could do whatever he wanted now and got on the bus. Forty minutes later, I arrived at my daughter’s apartment. Danny was finishing his homework at the kitchen table.
“Abuela, why are you home on Tuesday?”
“I’m tired, kiddo. Finish your math.”
“Are you okay?”
“I will be.”
I placed the photo on the windowsill and started thinking about finding another job.
PART 2: THE CALL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
PART 2
For three days, I contacted every family I had worked for before joining the Whitaker household. Most didn’t remember me. Two politely explained that they had no vacancies. By the third night, I sat at the kitchen table without touching my dinner. Danny had gone to bed early, sensing the anxiety I was trying to hide. The photo caught the last light of sunset, reminding me
