Naomi stood in the hallway, her hand resting weakly against the doorknob, her body swaying under the weight of exhaustion. It was 11:45 at night, and she had been awake since 4:00 that morning. Her day had moved without pause—a hospital shift from 6:00 to 2:00, straight to the call center from 3:00 to 7:00, a protein bar in the car for dinner, and then another shift after that. Four jobs. All for one reason: her husband’s debts. Debts she hadn’t created, but had somehow become responsible for carrying.crsaid
Her fingers tightened slightly as she prepared to push the door open, ready to collapse into whatever sleep her body would allow. Then she heard his voice. Laughter. Not tired or strained, but relaxed, careless. The kind of laughter she hadn’t heard from him in months. Naomi froze. “…I don’t even have to lift a finger anymore,” he said, his tone thick with satisfaction. “She works like a machine. Honestly, it’s like having a personal slave.”
