Chapter 2 - The Weight of the World
Clara’s apartment smelled of damp plaster and cheap tomato sauce. It was a tiny, one-bedroom walk-up on the South Side, miles away from the glittering towers of Apex Pinnacle.
"Leo? I'm home," Clara called out, locking the heavy deadbolt behind her.
A ragged cough echoed from the bedroom. Clara dropped her tote and rushed in. Leo was sitting on the edge of his mattress, his thin shoulders heaving as he struggled for air. Clara quickly grabbed his inhaler from the nightstand, shaking it before pressing it into his hand.
"Breathe, Leo. Slow, deep breaths," she instructed, sitting beside him and rubbing his back.
After a terrifying minute, the wheezing subsided. Leo leaned against her, exhausted. "I'm sorry, Clara. The radiator is acting up again. The cold air makes my chest tight."
"Don't you ever apologize for being sick," Clara said fiercely, kissing the top of his head. "I'll call the landlord tomorrow. I'll make him fix it."
It was an empty promise, and they both knew it. The landlord wouldn't fix anything unless she paid the past-due rent. Clara walked back into the tiny kitchen and began digging through her tote to check her accounting homework. She needed a perfect score to keep her community college scholarship.
She pulled out her textbooks, her notes, the utility bill... but her flash drive was gone.
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Clara froze, the blood draining from her face. Her final spreadsheet, the one she had spent three sleepless nights building, was on that drive. She frantically dumped the bag onto the linoleum floor. Nothing.
Tears pricked her eyes. She had dropped it in the lobby. The CEO of the company had probably stepped on it or thrown it in the trash. The one time she had been noticed, it had cost her everything.
