You’re a young, healthy girl who finally needs to grow up and learn to solve her problems on her own. At that moment, Tracy realized, arguing was pointless. This woman had already made her decision.
With trembling hands, she began pulling on the coat that hadn’t yet dried after the cemetery. Make sure you took your documents, Miranda called after her. Passport, student ID.
I put everything in the side pocket of the suitcase. Tracy nodded silently, grabbed the bags and suitcase, and left, carefully closing the door behind her. Only when she reached the stairwell did she allow herself to cry.
Going down to the street, Tracy stopped by the building entrance. Where to go? Who to turn to? Her friends had gone home for the holidays, and she didn’t have any close friends she could show up to with a suitcase. There were no relatives left in the city either, only distant ones in other cities, with whom she didn’t even communicate.
Wet snow fell on her face, mixing with tears. Tracy wandered down the street, not knowing where. Her father’s face appeared before her eyes, kind, with radiant wrinkles around his eyes.
How could he leave her in such a situation? Didn’t you realize that Miranda was just waiting for a chance to get rid of her? Memories flooded her like a wave. There they were, making pizza together on the weekend. He always cooked for her on Saturdays, even when he was very busy at work.
There they were going to the circus. She was five years old, tightly holding her father’s hand, afraid of the clowns. There was her school graduation.
Dad proudly photographed her in her evening dress. And then Miranda appeared. At first, she was sweet, gave Tracy gifts, took an interest in her life.
But after the wedding, everything changed. Miranda became cold, distant, and in the last year, when her father became seriously ill, she stopped hiding her irritation altogether. Your daughter sitting in her room again, doing nothing around the house, Tracy heard from her parents’ bedroom.
She’s a grown girl, Vidya, it’s time she learns to be independent, but you keep treating her like a child. Of course, her father defended her. He said Tracy studied well and helped as much as she could, but each time his voice sounded weaker and his arguments less convincing.
The illness was draining his strength, and Miranda took advantage of it. Tracy wandered the streets, occasionally stopping to adjust the heavy suitcase more comfortably. Her hands were freezing, her gloves remained in the pocket of another coat.
Her feet began to get wet, and her winter boots were not among the most essential things she took. It got dark. Streetlights illuminated the snowy streets.
Warm light shone through house windows. People were coming home from work, hurrying to their families. Dad, where are you? Tracy thought, feeling her fingers going numb.
Why did you leave me alone? Why did you let this woman decide my fate? After all, I’m your daughter, you’re blood. But there was no answer, only the wind threw prickly snowflakes in her face. Tracy didn’t notice how her feet led her to a small park near the university.
They often walked here with her father when he came to visit her after classes. The girl sat down on a snowy bench, no longer paying attention to the cold. Her strength was leaving her.
Tracy. Tracy Brown came a suddenly surprised female voice. The girl looked up.
Standing before her was Nancy Cooper, her literature teacher from high school. The elderly woman, wearing a warm coat and a fluffy hat, looked at her with undisguised concern. What are you doing here alone in such cold? And why do you have your things? Nancy Cooper asked anxiously.
Tracy wanted to answer calmly, but instead burst into tears again. The teacher immediately sat next to her and hugged her shoulders. There, there, dear, calm down.
Tell me what happened. Dad, dad died. Tracy managed to see through her sobs.
Oh my God, exclaimed Nancy Cooper. Poor girl. Where do you live now? Why are you on the street with your things? Tracy briefly told her what had happened, about the funeral, her stepmother’s cruel decision, and that she had nowhere to go.
How awful. Nancy Cooper was outraged. To kick a child out on a day like that.
No, that won’t do. You’re coming to my place right now. You’ll stay with me until we figure this out.
I can’t impose on you, Tracy began, but the teacher shook her head firmly. I don’t want to hear it. I live alone in a two-room apartment.
There’s plenty of space. Besides, I always valued you very much. You were one of my favorite students.
And I remember your father well. He always came to parent meetings, unlike many others. A decent man.
Half an hour later, they were entering Nancy’s old, but very cozy apartment on the second floor of a brick five-story building. Make yourself at home in the living room, the teacher said, helping Tracy take off her coat. I’ll put on the kettle and get some clean sheets.
You need to warm up and rest. Tracy nodded gratefully. She felt broken both physically and emotionally.
The past few weeks had been a real nightmare. Her father’s illness progressed rapidly, pancreatic cancer, diagnosed too late. She sat by his bedside through the nights, holding his hand, watching the light fade from his eyes day by day.
And now this betrayal from her stepmother on top of everything. Have some tea. Nancy Cooper placed a cup of steaming drink in front of her.
And eat a sandwich. You probably haven’t eaten all day. Tracy nodded.
After the funeral, there was a memorial lunch, but she couldn’t swallow a bite. Nancy Cooper, thank you so much. I… I don’t know what I would have done if I hadn’t met you.
Don’t thank me, the woman smiled gently. Life is unpredictable, and we have to support each other in hard times. Eat up and go to sleep.