Chapter 14 - Packing the Pieces
Leaving the diner was a blur. Eleanor paid the stunned diner manager a hundred-dollar bill for the broken coffee pot and guided the girls upstairs to Sarah’s apartment.
The room was painfully small and bleak. The wallpaper was peeling, and the single radiator hissed weakly against the damp chill. But it was meticulously clean. On a small, rickety desk sat a stack of library law books, printed legal forms regarding state foster custody, and a large glass jar filled to the brim with quarters and dollar bills.
It was a monument to Sarah’s relentless love for her sister.
Sarah pulled a worn canvas duffel bag from under the cot and began neatly folding her few items of clothing. She moved slowly, as if still afraid this was a dream she might wake up from.
When she reached for the heavy jar of coins, Eleanor gently placed a hand over hers.
"Leave it," Eleanor said quietly.
Sarah looked at her, confused. "It's almost three hundred dollars. It took me a year to save."
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"I know," Eleanor smiled gently. "And it's a testament to your incredible strength. But you don't need it anymore. Leave it for the next person in this room who needs a miracle."
Sarah stared at the jar for a moment. Then, with a small, weightless nod, she zipped up her half-empty duffel bag and walked toward the door.
