Innocent Silesia

"Next stop...Bellmere International."

The voice crackled over the bus speakers, and I jumped to my feet. I held the package on my lap tightly with my fingers, bending its corners because it was held too tightly.My lifeline. My future. My opportunity.

As the cityscape unfolded, I leaned my forehead against the window, my breath creating a misty film on the glass. Even with the grey overcast, the towering glass buildings and the neon signs still echoing from the night before, the crowds seemed to pulse together like a heartbeat, Bellmere radiated a vibrant energy.

"This is it," I whispered, nearly to myself.

Before she pulled her rolling luggage into the aisle, the woman beside me flashed a brief smile. I smoothed the wrinkles in my skirt and then stood up too. It was nothing out of the ordinary; a secondhand navy blue piece, slightly worn, paired with a light cardigan. humble. safe. Still, my knees trembled as if I were preparing for a global interview.

The moment the doors swung open, a cacophony of city sounds flooded in-horns blaring, voices overlapping, and the rhythmic thud of countless footsteps on concrete filled the air. I was utterly immersed when I stepped down.

Bellmere was filled with the aroma of roasted chestnuts, the freshness of recently fallen rain, and the lingering smell of automobile exhaust. Dragging my bag behind me, my shoes scraped against the damp pavement. All around, individuals moved with determination, their heels tapping rhythmically, their attire pristine, and the girl from Averna went unnoticed as she held a crumpled letter tightly, as if it were her very existence.

Although I had memorised the lines, I found myself reading them once more.

Miss Elton,

We are pleased to offer you a position with Bellmere Green House. Please report in person by September 10th, 9:00 a.m.

It was September 9th. I made it.

A small giggle caught in my throat as my chest rose. Even with their stiff, icy tone, the words on the page felt like a miracle after years of closed doors and broken promises. A position with Bellmere House. It sounded grand, important, too important for someone like me, maybe, but they had chosen me.They had picked me out of everyone.

I flattened the letter on my palm as though blinking too long may cause the ink to fade. That document was evidence that life may change, not just a job offer. Proof that the hard years behind me hadn't swallowed everything.

The noise of Bellmere Airport faded to a dull roar in my ears as I slowed down to read it again. For an instant, my future was neatly typed in black, and it was just me and the paper.

A man mumbled, "Keep moving, miss," as I paused in the middle of the walkway. As he went by, his shoulder rubbed against mine, annoyed.

My cheeks felt a flood of heat. I stepped swiftly to the side and hugged the letter tightly, whispering, "Sorry."

Waves of