Godfrey looked up, genuinely confused, then glanced at Vincent.
"Wait... I'm supposed to pay for those?"
I hadn't planned on asking for the money. But hearing those words, something hollow opened up inside my chest.
Caroline grabbed my hands, tears welling in her eyes.
"Don't blame Godfrey. Vincent always looked after him before, but now Vincent saved your life and he can't..." Her voice cracked. "It's my fault. I'm useless. I can't support Godfrey. I can't take Vincent's suffering away..."
She broke down sobbing, unable to finish. But the message was crystal clear.
Vincent sat with his head bowed, jaw tight, saying nothing.
I squeezed Caroline's hands. Tears blurred my vision. I clenched my teeth.
"Five thousand. I'll send it."
With Vincent no longer under my roof, I threw myself into work even harder. Every spare moment I had, I grabbed a stack of the restaurant's business cards and went door to door through every office building in the neighborhood, hoping to draw in the lunch crowd.
And it paid off.
One company placed a standing order for fifty boxed lunches a day, with the condition that no menu items could repeat within a five-day workweek. If I met their standards for a full month, they'd sign a long-term supply contract.
Fifty lunches at twenty dollars each meant a thousand dollars a day. Even counting just twenty-two workdays a month, that was an extra twenty thousand in revenue.
That was how I managed to scrape together the five thousand dollars a month for Caroline.
But busier meant more expenses, so I hired another server.
Every morning, I was up at four to hit the wholesale market and prep ingredients. After the cook finished the dishes, I packed the containers myself, sealed them, and ran deliveries. At eleven-thirty at night, I locked the doors, washed the dishes, and mopped the floors.
I grew more exhausted. More gaunt.
Godfrey still came in to eat, just a little less often.
He never paid.
The same routine every time: a scrawled signature on the tab and a casual, "Thanks, sis."
Before New Year's, I settled the books.
In six months, Godfrey had racked up $28,650 in tabs at the restaurant.
Caroline's household allowance: $20,000.
Vincent's physical therapy: $18,000.
After all of it, we had less than $20,000 left in savings.
We'd have to be careful over the holidays.
I told myself what I always told myself: Vincent ruined his life saving mine. This is the least I can do.