Chapter 3 The Call

Tessa had the pill bottle in her hand, and her patience was already gone.

“Mom,” she said, standing in the doorway of the small kitchen. “Those were supposed to be taken an hour ago.”

The apartment was quiet in that way it always got in the late afternoon, when the heat settled and everything felt heavier than it should. The fan in the corner rattled weakly, pushing warm air in slow, useless circles. The smell of reheated soup clung faintly to the room.

Her mother looked up from the table, slow and careful, like the movement cost something. She was wrapped in one of her old cardigans despite the heat, the sleeves pulled down over her wrists. Her hair was tied back loosely, strands escaping at the temples. Her eyes were tired, but still sharp. Too sharp sometimes, like they noticed everything even when her body could not keep up.

“I know,” her mom said. “I was going to.”

“You said that yesterday,” Tessa replied. She crossed the room and set the pill bottle down on the table harder than she meant to. It made a hollow plastic sound that echoed too loudly in the small space. “And the day before.”

Her mom sighed, the sound long and resigned. She reached for the glass of water beside her plate, fingers trembling just enough that Tessa noticed.

“You do not have to hover,” her mom said.

“I absolutely do,” Tessa shot back. “Because if I do not, you forget. And if you forget, things get worse.”

She tipped the pills into her palm. Two white tablets and one pale blue capsule. She held them out, arm extended, like an offering and a warning at the same time.

Her mom looked at the pills for a moment, then up at Tessa. Something soft flickered across her face. Amusement, maybe. Or regret.

“You have your father’s tone when you get like this,” her mom said quietly.

Tessa’s jaw tightened. “Drink.”

Her mom took the pills without arguing, swallowed them one by one, then drank the water slowly, deliberately. She set the glass down with exaggerated care, as if proving a point.

“There,” she said. “Happy?”

Tessa did not answer right away. She leaned back against the counter, arms folded, watching her mother’s face, her breathing, the way her throat moved when she swallowed. She counted in her head, the way she always did. Ten seconds. Twenty. Thirty.

The tight knot in her chest loosened, just a little.

Then the phone rang.

The sound sliced through the apartment, sharp and wrong. Too loud. Too sudden.

Tessa flinched.

For half a second, she thought it was the landline, which no one ever used anymore. Then her phone buzzed against the counter beside her bag.

She frowned and glanced at the screen.

Unknown number.

Her stomach dipped.

She wiped her hands on her jeans, suddenly aware they were damp, and picked up the phone. It buzzed again in her palm. She let it ring once more before answering.

“Hello?”

There was a pause on the other end. Just long enough for her to wonder if it was a robocall, or a wrong number, or one of those silent scam calls that hung up the moment you answered.

“Hello,” a woman said at last. Calm. Professional. “May I speak with Tessa Rhodes?”

Something in Tessa straightened immediately. Her shoulders squared without her thinking about it.

“This is she,” she said.

“My name is Mrs. Hale,” the woman continued. “I am calling regarding the position you applied for earlier today.”

Tessa’s heart kicked hard against her ribs.

“Oh,” she said. “Yes.”

Brilliant. Smooth. She closed her eyes briefly and pressed her free hand against the counter.

The woman’s voice did not change. Polite. Controlled. No warmth, but no edge either. It was the kind of voice that belonged to someone used to making decisions and having them followed.

“We would like to invite you for an in-person interview,” Mrs. Hale said. “If you are still interested.”

“Yes,” Tessa said immediately. Too fast. She forced herself to slow down. “I mean, yes. I am.”

“Good,” the woman said. “The interview would take place tomorrow afternoon.”

Tomorrow.

Tessa blinked. She had expected next week. Or at least a few days. Time to prepare. Time to breathe.

“That should be fine,” she said, surprising herself with how steady she sounded.

Mrs. Hale explained the basics next. The hours. The expectations. The structure of the household. Private family. One child. Clear boundaries. A professional environment.

Everything about it sounded distant and polished, like it had been rehearsed a hundred times before. Like something pulled straight from a brochure.

Wealthy strangers, Tessa thought.

Not her world.

Then the woman gave her the address.

Tessa’s fingers tightened around the phone.

She knew the area immediately. Everyone did. Across town. Past the schools with manicured lawns and the coffee shops that charged too much. Gated. Quiet streets. Houses that did not press against each other. The kind of place where no one left their windows open and everything smelled faintly like money.

“That is no problem,” Tessa said, even as her stomach flipped.

“Excellent,” Mrs. Hale replied. “Please arrive ten minutes early.”

“I will,” Tessa said.

They exchanged polite goodbyes. The call ended.

Tessa lowered the phone slowly, staring at the dark screen as if it might say something else if she waited long enough.

Her mom was watching her from the table, head tilted slightly. “That looked serious.”

“It is just a job interview,” Tessa said, forcing lightness into her voice. “Nothing big.”

Her mom smiled, relief softening her features. “That is good, sweetheart.”

Tessa nodded.

Just a job, she told herself. Just an interview. Just another chance to make things work.

She did not say anything about the address. Or the neighborhood. Or the way her pulse still hadn’t slowed.

The calm settled in, thin and fragile, like glass stretched too far. She let herself believe in it anyway.

For now.