The Cages You Build

Chapter One

•It had long since come to my attention that people of accomplishment rarely sat back and let things happen to them. They went out and happened to things~Leonardo da Vinci •

"I think I've been lenient enough, Miss Taylor. Your rent has been due for two months."

Mia blew out a shaky breath. "I know, sir and I'm sorry but please could you not give me another few weeks?"

Jen Cooper's jaw tightened in barely restrained fury. The girl's tone was so clipped, so calm, so maddeningly dignified even while she was begging. It nearly blinded him with rage.

Mia was unaccustomed to begging and even with eviction staring her in the face, she couldn't find it in her to wring her hands and squeeze out a few tears. Hours later, she wished she had. But unfortunately, it went against her nature.

"Two weeks." He raised two stiff fingers to her face. "I give you just two weeks to pay up. And not a day later, I expect my check. This is prime property and I don't run a charity."

The door slammed so hard behind him, the walls shook. Mia sank onto the stool by her sewing machine and put her head in her hands. She gave a broken, humorless laugh and wanted to dissolve into tears. She wanted to rail and scream and pull her hair out. She wanted to lay down and die. She wanted to curse God.

God...oh God...

Throat tight and eyes stinging with unshed tears, she climbed the narrow stairs to her upstairs apartment and poured herself a drink of water. She felt nauseated when the lukewarm water pooled in her belly and quieted the hunger pangs. She was so hungry, she could eat shoe leather and be glad of it. She'd spent her last penny on a loaf of bread the day before and there was nothing left in the kitchen but milk and half of the loaf, which she'd eat at night.

Mia braced herself against the marble island, sure she'd faint. How was she going to pay rent when she couldn't even afford the next meal?

She laughed bitterly. How dreams could dissolve when reality came crashing in. She'd rented this place a year ago, desperate for independence and freedom, ready to make her lifelong dreams of being a designer come to fruition.

She remembered how accomplished and happy she'd been while decorating the downstairs apartment, how proud she'd been when she put up the sign, announcing Mia Taylor's dressmaking studio. It was utterly laughable now that everything had been ripped down around her ears.

Slowly, with a weariness that made her feel eighty, she looked around the small apartment. She'd better start packing. At least when the landlord threw her out, her belongings would have some semblance of dignity. The precious little she had.

It was pitiable that she had to spend precious dollars on this rundown place with the roof leaking and the power disconnected because she couldn't pay the bills. The only furniture she had to her name were a stuffed armchair, sofa, a bookcase, a lumpy mattress she'd bought at a garage sale and a few end tables. She didn't have a TV; that was a luxury she'd forfeited long ago. It was a dreary place but for the last year, it had been home. All hers. But now even this was about to be taken from her.

She opened the curtains and let the breeze come in. Looking out to the breaking dawn, her heart clenched inside her.

God, when I look at the sky and feel the wind, I know in my head that you are here. But at times like this, I wonder if mother is right and you don't really exist.

Swift guilt gripped her almost immediately. How could she stand there and think like that when all she had to do was look back and see how faithful He'd been to her, even when she didn't know Him. This wasn't the first time she'd experienced trouble and it certainly wouldn't be the last time he would bail her out. Her testimonies were too many to count and yet here she was, letting seeds of doubt squeeze into her heart.