Chapter 6: The Last Resort

I stared at the key in my palm, feeling sick. I handed it back, mumbling thanks. My agent sighed, but didn’t push.

The price was a crushing penalty and nowhere to live. The company repossessed the apartment keys without warning. A newly signed artist would move in and take my place soon.

I came home to find my things piled in the hallway, locks changed. The new girl barely glanced at me as she moved in, her arms full of designer bags.

I spent six hours in the rain sorting through my scattered luggage. Chicago winters are biting. I didn’t feel cold while I was working, but when everything was packed and I looked around, a chill seeped into my bones.

My fingers went numb, and my breath fogged in the air. I pulled my hoodie tighter, wishing for spring. The city felt huge and empty.

I didn’t take much with me—just hailed a car to Harrison Caldwell’s house. He’d mentioned the address once; I hadn’t known where it was then. Later, when I accompanied a fifth-tier actress, I heard the address again and remembered. Turns out, Harrison had never hidden his family background from me.