Chapter 03

Sofia Bliss

The sun had barely risen when I forced myself out of bed.

That night…

That dream.

I tried to pretend it hadn’t happened.

Tried to pretend my body hadn’t begged for more.

But the truth? Just thinking about him made my cheeks flush.

I needed to get him out of my head.

Work. That’s what I had to focus on. Money. A job. Stability.

Nothing else.

I put on the most “professional” outfit I had—

A white high-neck blouse and a dark skirt that reached my knees.

The shoes dug into my heels, but at least they weren’t falling apart.

Hair up in a plain bun, a little gloss on my lips, and a deep breath in front of the cracked bathroom mirror.

“You’ve got this, Sofia. Just smile, hand out your résumé, and wait for the call. Easy.”

That’s what I told myself.

But deep down, I knew…

Nothing about this was easy.

Letícia was still sleeping on the couch—exhausted and wrapped in a floral sheet, her makeup from the night before smudged but somehow still intact.

Next to her, the red ropes were finally tucked away, along with the rest of the... props.

I slipped out quietly, carrying my folder with copies of my résumé and the few online certificates I’d managed to collect.

The neighborhood was loud.

Car exhaust stung my nose. I had to take two buses just to reach downtown.

And once I arrived…

It felt like a whole different universe.

Massive glass towers, polished windows, people striding like they knew exactly who they were and where they were going.

And there I was.

Holding my résumé to my chest like a shield, fear nipping at my heels.

The first company I entered had a glamorous reception—mirrors, lush plants, too much perfume in the air. I forced a smile at the woman behind the desk.

“Hi… good morning. I’d like to drop off a résumé. I’m looking for a position as a receptionist or assistant…”

She gave me a once-over like I was begging for change.

“We only accept résumés by email,” she said flatly, eyes still glued to her screen. “Next.”

I stood there for a second. My face burned.

Swallowed the humiliation, whispered a thank you, and walked out as fast as I could.

The second place was slightly better.

They let me go up to the third floor to meet someone named Luiza.

She took my résumé with a small, empty smile.

“We’ll call you if something opens up, okay?”

She wasn’t going to call.

I knew it.

So went the third.

The fourth.

The fifth.

By late morning, my makeup was smudged, my hair blown out of place by the wind.

And I started to wonder—can someone melt from shame?

Because that’s exactly how I felt.

At lunchtime, I sat in a park, nibbling on a cheese bread I bought with the last coins in my pocket.

Checked my phone for the thousandth time.

Nothing.

No messages from the companies.

No messages from my dad.

That silence hurt more than all the “no’s” I’d heard.

Around me, people were smiling, laughing, snapping selfies like life was picture-perfect.

And me?

I felt like a shadow.

Watching the world from the outside.

Out of place.

Invisible.

I almost broke down right there—under a palm tree strung with fairy lights.

But no. I couldn’t afford to fall apart.

I kept moving.

Dropped off résumés at a clothing store, a coffee shop, a beauty salon—even a pet store.

Some people were polite. Others looked at me like I was asking for something impossible.

By five o’clock, my whole body ached.

My feet were raw inside my shoes.

And my cheeks were burning from forcing so many fake smiles.

I tried one last building.

The place was massive—golden glass, security guards at the door, a sign way too fancy for someone like me.

I knew I didn’t stand a chance. But for some reason, I walked in anyway.

The guard hesitated, gave me a once-over, then handed me a temporary badge.

The elevator crawled up, slow as hell.

The receptionist smiled as I approached. She took my résumé and said:

“We’re actually starting a hiring process. You might have a shot. I’ll write a note and set yours aside, okay?”

I smiled back—for the first time that day, it felt real.

Maybe it was just empathy. Or pity.

But it was the first flicker of hope I’d felt in hours.

By the time I stepped outside, the sky was already fading.

I walked home slowly, like each step weighed three times more than it should.

I felt like a walking failure.

But still… I was breathing.

---

I entered the apartment without a sound.

Letícia was in her room, getting ready—hair frozen in place with hairspray, makeup flawless, high heels clicking across the floor.

Designer clothes I couldn’t even name.

She saw me through the mirror.

“How’d it go?”

“I dropped off like… twenty résumés. They said they’d call.”

She let out a sigh, still applying lipstick.

“They never call.”

That hurt.

But I already knew.

I went straight to the bedroom. Kicked off my shoes, dropped my folder on the floor, and collapsed onto the bed.

My body begged for rest.

But my mind kept spinning:

'What if none of this works?'

'What if I really am alone in this?'

I closed my eyes and breathed deep, trying to hold back the tears burning behind my lids.

Tomorrow would be a new day.

I had to believe that.

Eventually, sleep took over.

---

Until…

My phone buzzed.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

I woke up dazed, heart racing—thinking maybe, finally, someone had called about a job.

I grabbed the phone off the bed, glanced at the screen…

Aunt Marta.

Her name was flashing.

And that... that wasn’t normal.

I picked up on the third ring.

“Hey, auntie… is everything okay?”

Silence.

That strange kind of silence—the muffled one. And then I heard it:

Hospital sounds. Machines. Soft voices. Shuffling.

My whole body locked up before she even spoke.

“Sofia…”

Her voice cracked—soft, broken.

“It’s your dad. He… he tried to take his own life, sweetheart.”

The ground disappeared under me.

“What?”

“He’s in the hospital. He tried to hang himself this afternoon. A neighbor found him just in time—thank God. But… he’s not doing well, Sofi. Not at all.”

I went cold. Like someone had thrown me into ice water.

I sat up too fast, the phone slipping from my hand for a second.

“He… is he alive?”

“He is. But it’s a private hospital. They took him because it was an emergency—closest one we could find near the village. But Sofia… we can’t afford it. The tests, the meds, the daily rates… we’re not gonna make it.”

My mind spun.

My mouth was dry.

My heart thundered in my ears.

“Did you get a job, sweetie? Anything at all?”

“I did,” I lied.

The words came out before I could stop them.

“I’m working. I… I’ll figure it out. I promise.”

She started crying.

I did too.

“He’s going to be okay, Sofia. He’s just… tired. Lost.”

So was I.

So damn lost.

And now… completely desperate.

I hung up and just sat there.

Phone in hand. Staring into nothing.

The room was dark.

But inside me?

It was darker.