of their massive houses until she could find her footing again. She had lost the house in the divorce settlement, along with most of her savings. Brent had bled her for as much money as he could, seeking revenge on her for years of being better than him, always a step ahead.
Therefore, she had settled on an incredibly difficult, but necessary decision: to move to Cleveland. This city was a far cry from the San Francisco bay area, and Rose knew it would be an immense lifestyle change for all three of them.
They’d packed up what little they had left and jumped on a flight to Cleveland to move in with her retired parents. Luckily, Rose’s parents were more than happy to share their home, and were delighted to finally get some quality time with their granddaughters. And Rose had just enough of her savings left to sustain them for the time being.
But time was quickly running out. And so was the money.
“Where’s that damn bus?” Rose wondered aloud, peering up and down the street.
She checked the time on her phone, annoyed. It was already four in the afternoon. The rain was starting to pick up a little, and Rose finally got tired of waiting. So she got up to start walking. She couldn’t stand to wait for the bus any longer. Besides, a brisk walk through the rain just might clear her head a bit. Or at least let her burn off some of her nervous energy.
After walking a few blocks, the bus drove right by her on its way to the bus stop where she’d just been waiting, dousing her legs with a splash of dirty street water in the process. She swiveled around and stared open-mouthed after it, unable to believe how bad her luck had soured as of late.
“Seriously?” she shouted, waving her arm. But of course the bus didn’t stop, and Rose was left standing on the sidewalk, soaked from the knees down. She groaned in frustration and continued walking, fuming to herself.
But suddenly, she was distracted from her fury by a strange sight out of the corner of her eye. She stopped short and squinted quizzically at a strange, large heap of tattered clothing poking out from behind a dumpster in a nearby alley. Rose’s heart raced, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking over to check it out.
“What the hell,” she mumbled as she approached, realizing it was a human body.
A man.
Whose clothes were rumpled and torn in places.
Whose face had a streak of what had to be blood down one cheek.
Rose stumbled back at first, covering her mouth in horror. What if he was dead? Shaking, she reached for her phone to call 911, but then the man groaned.
He was alive!
Before she could think better of it, Rose crouched down beside him and looked him over, reaching out for his arm to search for a pulse. Pressing two fingers to the inside of his wrist, she closed her eyes and counted. One-two. One-two. It was there, but terribly, dangerously faint.
Just then, the man’s hand grasped hold of her wrist and she cried out, trying to jerk her arm away. But his grip was tight, almost desperate, and he wouldn’t let go. His lips parted, trying to speak, but no sound came out. He was simply too weak. She wondered what the hell had happened to him, who had left him in such a wretched state, alone and unconscious in a filthy alleyway. Rose felt a surge of sympathy for him.
But she couldn’t turn him away, even if he had let go of her hand. Not now. She had to save him somehow. Rose dropped her umbrella, pulled out her cell phone with her free hand, and began dialing 911.
“Hello, 911 operator. What is your emergency?” asked the voice on the other end of the line.
Rose was so unsettled by the whole affair that at first she struggled to speak. She was finally able to focus her eyes on the man’s face, and he was startlingly, unexpectedly handsome. Rose blinked down at him in shock.
The 911 dispatcher sighed and repeated, “Hello? What is your emergency?”
“I’m s-sorry, I’m here,” Rose stammered into the phone.
“Okay,
Therefore, she had settled on an incredibly difficult, but necessary decision: to move to Cleveland. This city was a far cry from the San Francisco bay area, and Rose knew it would be an immense lifestyle change for all three of them.
They’d packed up what little they had left and jumped on a flight to Cleveland to move in with her retired parents. Luckily, Rose’s parents were more than happy to share their home, and were delighted to finally get some quality time with their granddaughters. And Rose had just enough of her savings left to sustain them for the time being.
But time was quickly running out. And so was the money.
“Where’s that damn bus?” Rose wondered aloud, peering up and down the street.
She checked the time on her phone, annoyed. It was already four in the afternoon. The rain was starting to pick up a little, and Rose finally got tired of waiting. So she got up to start walking. She couldn’t stand to wait for the bus any longer. Besides, a brisk walk through the rain just might clear her head a bit. Or at least let her burn off some of her nervous energy.
After walking a few blocks, the bus drove right by her on its way to the bus stop where she’d just been waiting, dousing her legs with a splash of dirty street water in the process. She swiveled around and stared open-mouthed after it, unable to believe how bad her luck had soured as of late.
“Seriously?” she shouted, waving her arm. But of course the bus didn’t stop, and Rose was left standing on the sidewalk, soaked from the knees down. She groaned in frustration and continued walking, fuming to herself.
But suddenly, she was distracted from her fury by a strange sight out of the corner of her eye. She stopped short and squinted quizzically at a strange, large heap of tattered clothing poking out from behind a dumpster in a nearby alley. Rose’s heart raced, but she couldn’t stop herself from walking over to check it out.
“What the hell,” she mumbled as she approached, realizing it was a human body.
A man.
Whose clothes were rumpled and torn in places.
Whose face had a streak of what had to be blood down one cheek.
Rose stumbled back at first, covering her mouth in horror. What if he was dead? Shaking, she reached for her phone to call 911, but then the man groaned.
He was alive!
Before she could think better of it, Rose crouched down beside him and looked him over, reaching out for his arm to search for a pulse. Pressing two fingers to the inside of his wrist, she closed her eyes and counted. One-two. One-two. It was there, but terribly, dangerously faint.
Just then, the man’s hand grasped hold of her wrist and she cried out, trying to jerk her arm away. But his grip was tight, almost desperate, and he wouldn’t let go. His lips parted, trying to speak, but no sound came out. He was simply too weak. She wondered what the hell had happened to him, who had left him in such a wretched state, alone and unconscious in a filthy alleyway. Rose felt a surge of sympathy for him.
But she couldn’t turn him away, even if he had let go of her hand. Not now. She had to save him somehow. Rose dropped her umbrella, pulled out her cell phone with her free hand, and began dialing 911.
“Hello, 911 operator. What is your emergency?” asked the voice on the other end of the line.
Rose was so unsettled by the whole affair that at first she struggled to speak. She was finally able to focus her eyes on the man’s face, and he was startlingly, unexpectedly handsome. Rose blinked down at him in shock.
The 911 dispatcher sighed and repeated, “Hello? What is your emergency?”
“I’m s-sorry, I’m here,” Rose stammered into the phone.
“Okay,
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