Chapter 199
CHAPTER 8
Magnolia Ridge moved at its own unhurried pace, a sleepy southern
town tucked away near the border of Georgia and South Carolina. To
Isla, it felt as though time itself had slowed, dragging her along in an
endless loop of uncertainty. The town, with its quaint charm and
quiet streets, seemed to offer little for someone in her predicament.
Each morning, Isla locked the door to her small, dingy room at the
guesthouse like it was a ritual. She would step out onto the porch, the
air already thick with the scent of blooming jasmine and the faint
hum of distant traffic, and begin her search. For two days, she walked
the streets of Magnolia Ridge, peering into shop windows and timidly
entering restaurants. But every inquiry ended in the same
disheartening response: No vacancies.
The first day had been especially demoralizing. She had returned to
her room just as the sun dipped below the horizon, painting the sky
in shades of amber and gold. Her legs ached, and her heart was heavy
with rejection. But when she stepped into her room, a wave of unease
rippled through her. Her belongings had been disturbed. The few
clothes she’d neatly folded were now haphazardly tossed, her
toiletries shifted around, and her small possessions out of place.
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She froze, her gaze darting around the cramped space. The room felt different now–violated. Isla’s stomach churned as she hurried to her
suitcase, dropping to her knees and fumbling with the zipper. Her fingers found the tiny slit she had cut into the lining, where she’d hidden the cash she brought with her. Relief washed over her when she counted the crumpled bills. The few thousand dollars she had saved from Thornfield Manor were still there, but her relief was
fleeting.
The owner of the guesthouse had unsettled her from the moment she arrived. He was a stocky man with a greasy smile and a leering gaze that made her skin crawl. She had seen him lingering in the hallway a
little too often, always watching, always grinning. Isla felt certain it
had been him–or one of his staff–who had gone through her things.
But what could she do? She had nowhere else to go. For now, she had
to endure it.
By the second day, the gravity of her situation had begun to sink in. She wasn’t just a young woman looking for work; she was a high school graduate with no formal skills, no references, and a significant disadvantage–her deafness. Every time she inquired about a job, the
initial flicker of interest in the employer’s eyes dimmed the moment
she explained her condition.
“How will you know when customers are calling you?” a restaurant
manager had asked, his brow furrowed. Isla had tried to assure him that she could manage gesturing to demonstrate her ability to read
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lips. But her efforts were in vain. She saw the same doubts reflected
in the faces of everyone she approached.
By the end of the second day, the sting of rejection had deepened.
Each “no” was a blow to her fragile resolve, and each time she
returned to her shabby room, it felt harder to summon the strength to
try again. She would sit on the edge of the hard, lumpy bed, staring at
the peeling wallpaper, and think of Thornfield Manor. It came to her
vividly in her dreams each night–the sprawling grounds, the familiar
creak of the wooden floors, and the comforting presence of Robert
Lancaster. But every morning, she woke to her bleak reality, a
hundred miles away from everything she had ever known.
On the third day, exhaustion gripped her. Her feet dragged as she
walked through the streets, her spirits lower than ever. The weight of
her circumstances pressed down on her chest, a suffocating reminder
that there was no going back. Each rejection echoed in her mind like
a cruel refrain, reinforcing the harsh truth: she was alone,
unprepared, and unwelcome in a world that seemed to have no place
for her.
That night, as Isla lay in the unforgiving bed, she stared at the cracks
in the ceiling, her heart aching with homesickness and despair. She
told herself she had no choice but to keep going. But the words felt
hollow, as though they belonged to someone else. The thought of
returning to Thornfield Manor crossed her mind for a fleeting
moment, but she quickly banished it. There was no going back, she
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reminded herself firmly. No matter how hard it got, she had to find a
way to survive.
