She hung up, ran to the bathroom, splashed cold water on her face, and stared at the woman in the mirror — sunken eyes, a mess. She took a hard breath, grabbed her bag, and bolted out the door like the place was on fire.
Thirty minutes later.
Standing in the middle of Midtown Manhattan, Sarah looked up at the six-story standalone building in front of her — glass curtain wall catching the sunlight, the Redwood Capital logo bold and clean across the front.
She just stood there, heart hammering.
This... this is the company that called me?
An entire building. In Midtown.
A company this size... actually wants me? Someone who just went bankrupt, got left by her husband, and almost didn't make it to this morning?
She genuinely started to doubt herself.
Since when am I this impressive?
Why would a company like this personally call to recruit me?
Is this some new kind of scam? Targeting broke, desperate people with nothing left to lose?
Then she thought about it. Woman in her thirties, buried in debt, had already made peace with dying. What exactly were they going to scam her out of?
Nothing to lose meant nothing to fear.
Screw it. I'm going in.
Sarah straightened her back, jaw set, carrying equal parts reckless determination and a flicker of something she didn't dare examine too closely — and walked through the front door.
That step, quiet as it was, tilted the whole direction of her life.
...
By midday, Ethan was back on campus. Morning training had already wrapped up.
Nora dragged herself back to the dorm, legs like they'd been filled with concrete, each step heavier than the last.
Her face was drained of all color, lips cracked, a cold sweat still clinging to her temples.
A deep, bone-level exhaustion spread through her body like something was pressing in from every direction at once.
Inside the dorm, her three roommates had already collapsed onto their beds, their moaning barely audible:
"Ugh... my legs... they don't belong to me anymore..."
"That instructor is an actual demon..."
"This afternoon... I genuinely cannot..."
Nora quietly walked to her desk and sat down, ten times more wrecked than any of them.
Years of not eating enough had left her with a body that wasn't built for this kind of punishment.
Every time they had to stand at attention, every leg raise — it was a battle against her own limits.
But unlike her roommates, she didn't let herself sink into the groaning.
Because she'd been through worse. A lot worse.
There had been moments far more exhausting, far more desperate, and she'd gritted through every single one without a word. That kind of endurance had been baked into her bones for years. So right now, she just sat quietly, eyes closed, working to steady her breathing and slow her heartbeat back down.
Then it was time to eat.
Nora pushed herself up from the desk, grabbed her water bottle and dining card, and headed toward the dining hall.
At the self-serve counter, a scoop of rice and one side vegetable — that was her usual. That was what she could afford.
Last time Ethan had said "if you don't hurry the dining hall will close" — the reason she'd cared so much was because missing that meal was a real loss she couldn't just shake off.
Ethan had said he'd treat her to three meals.
She'd had the second one last night. That lunchbox had been generous and warm, and it left her feeling both grateful and quietly unsettled.
She felt like she'd already taken way more than she should have.
Nobody owed her that kind of care. Being treated twice was already more than enough — already a real kindness.
She didn't let herself expect anything beyond that. Never did with anyone.
No expectations meant no disappointment.
She kept her head down and made her way toward the dining hall under the shade of the trees.
She hadn't gotten far from the residence hall when a familiar figure came into view.
Ethan.
He was standing under a tree not far ahead, two lunchboxes in hand, soup balanced alongside them.
He spotted her, smiled — easy, natural — and walked over. "Nora, perfect timing. I was just about to come find you."
Nora stopped walking. Froze completely.
The moment that easy smile landed on her, something hit her without warning — a sudden, sharp pressure behind her eyes. Warmth blurred her vision before she could stop it.
"Ethan, thank you, but I really can't let you keep doing this." Her voice came out quieter than she intended, with a roughness she was fighting hard to hold back. "You've already treated me twice. That's more than enough."
She dropped her head, lashes low, hiding her eyes — and the vulnerability underneath that she never let anyone see.
Ethan watched her pull it all inward and understood immediately.
His tone stayed calm, steady, no room to argue against. "We agreed on three meals. I keep my word. Take it."
He stepped forward, wrapped a hand gently around her wrist — cold, too thin — and transferred the lunchbox and soup into her hands before she could find the words to push back.
Nora's fingers curled around them instinctively. She didn't pull away the way she had before.
Ethan looked at her bowed head and kept going. "This was always supposed to be the third meal. Three was the deal, so three it is. And actually — there's something I need help with, and I can't find the right person for it. Didn't I say earlier you'd be my secretary? I really do need you, Nora. Would you be willing to help me?"
Nora looked up fast, eyes wide — disbelief, a flicker of panic, a trace of doubt. "Me?... What is it? Can I... actually help?" She was afraid of getting it wrong.
"Of course you can." Ethan's tone didn't waver. Clean, direct, no second-guessing in it at all.
That kind of certainty — uncomplicated and unqualified — cut right through the hesitation in her eyes like light through a gap.
She didn't ask what the task was. She just nodded, once, firmly. Her voice came out soft but completely clear. "I'll do it."
Ethan nodded back, didn't explain further, just said one thing: "Good. Then eat well and get some rest."
Then he turned and left.
Nora watched his back until it disappeared at the far end of the path, then looked down at the lunchbox and soup in her hands. She stood there a long time without moving.
The afternoon sun came through the leaves in broken patches, warming the food in her hands — and quietly, without asking permission, melting something in her chest she'd kept locked down for a long time.
She stood there for a while. Then, slowly, she turned and walked back toward the dorm.
...
Back at the dorm.
The scene that greeted Ethan left him completely speechless.
So much for the promised total physical collapse from training.
Kevin was planted on the couch that had basically colonized the hallway. Dark circles under both eyes — but absolutely buzzing with energy, leaning toward Derek's laptop, clicking his tongue. "Okay wait, this movie is actually good. Look at that quality."
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