Chapter 3

The next few days were a blur of cold shoulders and hushed conversations that stopped when I entered a room.

Bella avoided me. When we finally talked, it was brief, sterile.

She said she was "disappointed." She said she needed to "protect the brand."

She didn' t fire me, not yet. But I was a ghost in the kitchen.

Julian' s friends, my former colleagues, made sure I felt it.

My station was messed with. Orders went missing. Whispers followed me everywhere. "Thief."

I tried to focus on my work, on my mother. Her health was fragile. Stress was the last thing she needed.

One afternoon, my mother, Sarah, came to the restaurant.

She carried a small container. "Ethan, you' ve been so stressed. I made your favorite."

She looked frail, her smile a little weak, but her eyes were full of love.

I tried to steer her away from the main kitchen, but it was too late.

A few of Julian' s cronies saw her.

"Look, it' s the thief' s mother," one of them sneered, loud enough for her to hear.

My mother flinched.

"Must be hard raising a son who steals from his boss' s friends," another one added, laughing.

"Leave her alone!" I said, stepping in front of my mother.

"What' s wrong, Walker? Can' t handle the truth?"

My mother clutched my arm. "Ethan, let' s go. It' s okay."

Her voice trembled.

One of them, a line cook named Peterson, shoved past me, bumping my mother hard.

"Watch it, old lady."

My mother stumbled, the container flying from her hands. It clattered to the floor, the home-cooked meal spilling everywhere.

She cried out, more in shock than pain.

I saw red. I lunged at Peterson, but my mother grabbed my shirt.

"No, Ethan! Please!"

I stopped, shaking with rage.

My mother knelt, her hands trembling, trying to scoop the spilled food back into the container.

My heart broke.

I knelt beside her. I picked up a piece of chicken from the floor, dusted it off, and put it in my mouth.

"It' s delicious, Mom," I said, my voice thick.

Tears welled in her eyes. "Oh, Ethan..."

Just then, Bella walked in with Julian. They must have heard the commotion.

Bella' s face hardened when she saw the scene.

Me, kneeling on the floor. My mother, distressed. The spilled food.

"Ethan!" she snapped. "What is the meaning of this? Are you eating off the floor? You' re embarrassing the entire establishment!"

Julian smirked, enjoying the show.

My mother looked at Bella, then at me, her face pale. She swayed.

"Mom?"

She gasped, her hand flying to her chest. Then she collapsed.

"Mom!" I screamed, catching her before she hit the ground.

Chaos erupted. Someone called 911.

I held my mother, her body limp in my arms. Her eyes were closed.

The doctors at the hospital said the stress had triggered a severe episode. Her MS was worsening.

She needed urgent, specialized treatment. In a clinic in Seattle.

The cost was astronomical. Money I didn' t have. Money I couldn' t earn fast enough.

Despair crushed me. My mother was dying because of me. Because of a stolen watch and a heartless lie.