Chapter 30: Preston's Decline
239 words
I didn't seek Preston out. I wanted him to be a ghost in my memory. but the city is smaller than it looks, especially when you're trying to reclaim pieces of your past.
I went to the pawn shop on 5th Street—the one with the bars on the windows. I was there to buy back my late husband’s watch, which I had pawned for chemo drugs two years ago.
As I waited for the broker to open the safe, the bell above the door chimed.
A man shuffled in. He was gaunt, his once-silky hair greasy and matted. He approached the counter next to mine, pulling a gold Rolex from his pocket. His hands trembled, a sign of withdrawal or desperation.
"It's worth forty thousand," the man whispered. It was Preston. He didn't even notice me standing three feet away. His focus was entirely on selling luxury goods for quick cash.
The broker, a hard man named Sal who had seen everything, adjusted his loupe. "I'll give you two grand. Take it or leave it."
"Two grand?" Preston's voice cracked. "Do you know who I am? I need at least ten for... for expenses."
"I know exactly who you are, Mr. Sterling," Sal said, not looking up. "Your credit score repair isn't my problem. Two grand. Or get out."
Preston took the money. He snatched the cash with greedy, shaking fingers and ran out the door.
End of Chapter 30
