Chapter 6: The Truth and the Trap

I started buying books and studying on my own, so I went to him less and less.

The library became my sanctuary, a place where nobody knew my name or my story. I’d spend hours lost in the pages, dreaming of a different life.

But he still wanted the whiskey I brought, threatening me to bring it every week or he'd tell Tom that I was sneaking around to learn from him.

He laughed nastily, "Bring an extra pound of pork every week, or I'll tell Tom you tried to seduce me while he was away."

I clenched my fists but agreed in the end.

Sometimes, survival means swallowing your pride. I told myself it was only temporary.

Endure the small stuff to achieve bigger things—that was my first lesson.

Every time I handed over the whiskey and pork, I reminded myself that freedom was worth the price.

The good times didn't last. The Ray family's business ran into trouble.

Rumors started to spread—missed deliveries, bounced checks. The phone rang constantly, and Mrs. Ray’s voice grew sharper with every call.

Their leather shop had cash flow problems. A batch of goods was delayed, more and more orders piled up, clients canceled. Mr. and Mrs. Ray tried to delay payments and wouldn't refund customers.

The tension in the house was palpable. Doors slammed, voices rose, and nobody slept through the night.

Businesspeople value time most. Gradually, people got angry and threatened to take the Ray family to court.

The mailbox overflowed with angry letters. The threat of lawsuits hung over us like a storm cloud.

This infuriated Tom. If convicted, it would ruin his prospects, so he threw a tantrum and demanded his dad fix it.

He paced the living room, shouting at anyone who would listen. Mr. Ray just shook his head, defeated.

But the clients refused, demanding either goods or money.

They showed up at the door, fists pounding, voices raised. I watched from the stairs, heart racing.

Mr. and Mrs. Ray had to deal with clients by day and their son by night, running themselves ragged. I became their punching bag.

Whenever things went wrong, they found a way to blame me. I learned to keep my head down and my mouth shut.

Mrs. Ray poked my back and cursed:

"You laze around at home and can't even manage two acres. If the harvest isn't enough after autumn, just wait and see."

Her words stung, but I kept my face blank. I’d heard worse before.

"Been here half a year and haven't even seen an egg. What did our family do to deserve a barren woman!"

I lowered my head and listened, crying timidly.

The tears came easily now, a shield against her anger. I let them fall, knowing it was safer than talking back.

"Mom, it's not that I don't want a child. Thomas has been working hard these past two months, studying every day. Lately, the family business has been in trouble. He makes a fuss by day, but at night he can't sleep, always trying to help you and dad."

I cried even harder.

"He's so motivated now. Last night he told me he thought of a solution to help you. How could I dare disturb him?"

I spoke sincerely, and Mr. Ray quickly covered Mrs. Ray's mouth.

He shot her a look, as if to say, let the girl talk. I hid my smile behind my hand.

"You mean Tommy has a solution?"

I nodded.

I could see the hope flicker in his eyes, desperate for anything that might save them.

That night at dinner, Mr. Ray couldn't hold back.

He cleared his throat, pushing his plate aside. The room fell silent.

"Son, what's the solution you came up with?"

Tom had lost everything gambling and was annoyed. Hearing his dad, he impatiently jabbed his fork.

He didn’t look up, just stabbed at his food, muttering under his breath.

"What?"

"The supplier issue. Jessie said you figured out a solution. We need to give an answer tomorrow, so tell us today."

He looked up at me, and I gave him a pleading look: "Just what you told me last night—gather all the clients and compensate them."

Tom froze, then echoed, "Yeah, yeah, I discussed it with Jessie yesterday. Compensate them...compensate what again?"

I continued, "How could you forget, honey? Compensate them all, then have them sign a pledge not to fall out with the Ray family or take us to court."

When Tom heard there'd be no lawsuit, his eyes lit up. He took all the credit.

He puffed out his chest, acting like he’d saved the day. I let him have it—sometimes, it’s safer to let men believe their own lies.

Even if Mr. and Mrs. Ray were reluctant to pay, they had to give in.

They grumbled, but they knew it was their only shot. I watched them, wondering how long it would last.

But soon their faces grew even darker.

The realization dawned—paying everyone back would wipe them out. Their pride wouldn’t let them admit it, but I could see the fear in their eyes.

This time the amount owed was huge. Mr. and Mrs. Ray were just small traders, and suddenly dealing with such a big account was a problem.

They whispered late into the night, voices tense. The walls were thin, and I heard every word.