That evening, Daniel arrived as if nothing were wrong.
When I showed him the eviction notice, his face changed instantly.
He tried to explain, to soften the truth, to apologize.
He admitted he had taken the money.
He believed he could replace it before anyone noticed.
I felt something inside me break.
Not just because of the money, but because my trust had been used against me.
He had put my home at risk.
The following days passed in a blur of fear and shame.
Sleep escaped me.
Food lost its taste.
Every corner of my apartment felt heavy with disappointment.
Then my neighbor, Mrs. Alvarez, came knocking.
She stepped inside with a warm pot of soup and immediately sensed something was wrong.
When I finally told her everything, she didn’t judge me.
She simply took my hand and said, “You’re not alone.”
With her help, I contacted the tenants’ association.
With her support, the landlord agreed to a payment plan.
It wasn’t easy, but it gave me hope.
