"I'm tired..I've tried everything humanly possible to clear this bill, hmmm"
Mila sat on the edge of her bed looking at the numerous bills like fallen leaves on my small table.
Some bills were fresh and white. Others were old, rough and faded from being touched too much.
Electricity bill. Water bill. A rent notice written in red ink showing that it was due already.
And now the latest bill that made her heart feel heavy each time I looked at it.
She picked up the newest envelope from the hospital and opened it.
"$4,820 hmmmmm," she exhaled the number like it was a weight pressing on her lungs.
Chemotherapy. Scans. The specialized heart medications that kept Nana stable enough to smile some mornings.
Two weeks late.
"Nana can't wait any longer, I promised to take care of her." She whispered with tears in the corner of her eyes.
"Mila, there's no time for crying..you need to find a way out," she said to herself while wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her worn hoodie.
There was nothing much left in her account. It showed $47.12, not even enough for more than transport and a loaf of bread. Although she did two part-time jobs, waitressing and cleaning which covered rent and groceries.
No cousins. No aunt's. Just her and her grandmother.
She stood up. Walked to the corner desk. Opened her old laptop. The fan made a loud sound.
She clicked the bookmark she had saved weeks ago. Cole Enterprises Personal Assistant.
The ad was short. "High-pressure environment. Absolute discretion required. Perfect organization is essential. Salary competitive."
"Five.. five what?"
The salary at the bottom of the letter caught her attention. It was more than enough to solve her problems.
She opened her resume file. Added dates for the café job. The retail shift. The months she cared for Nana full-time. Typed a cover letter and updated the dates for the café job three months ago.
Added the retail shift she had picked up last winter. Included the long stretch when she had cared for Nana full-time after the first hospital admission, framing it as "family caregiving with medical coordination responsibilities."
Mila's fingers delayed tapping the send button in the cover letter.
"I am reliable. I work hard. I keep promises. I need steady work to support my family."
She went through it just once and applied for the available vacancy.
Application submitted.
She stared at her laptop waiting for a message from the Cole Enterprise while her heart was beating faster than normal.
New email:
Subject: Interview Invitation for Personal Assistant Position.
Tomorrow, 9:00 a.m. sharp. Cole Enterprises HQ. Bring ID and references.
No phone call. No questions. Just come.
"Huhhh.. is this a dream? No… .No way."
Mila read it twice. The message came in less than five minutes.
"What? She jumped up, brought out her best blouse from her closet. White, a little faded, skirt black and iron it on the kitchen table.
In front of the bathroom mirror she practiced.
"Good morning. My name is Mila Thompson. I'm here for the assistant role."
"Ohh. .no, okay, okay, you've got this Mila."
She straightened her shoulders. Tried again, this time it was even better than the previous attempt.
"Time for bed."
She turned off the light, climbed her bed and got under her thin blanket, staring at the ceiling.
"Yeah." She couldn't sleep. Her mind kept thinking about tomorrow, every question, every possible mistake, and the chance that would decide Nana's fate.
It's finally here. The day she has been patiently waiting for.
She quickly got ready for the interview, took a bus to the Cole Enterprises' location that lasted twenty minutes.
The driver drove so fast that they got there on time.
"Thank you Sir. Have a nice day," she said to the driver as she came down.
"Woah. This is huge. You've got this" she said to herself this time with a glimpse of a smile.
The building stood right in front of her, tall and bright. Glass covered the outside, and strong steel edges lined it. Above the main doors, she saw the big silver sign: Cole Enterprises.
"Let's go Mila." she encouraged herself, pushed the rotating door. It moved slowly and heavily.
The lobby inside was big and spacious, the floor was made of smooth marble that reflected the light, and only a few people were there, all dressed in suits.
"Name?" A security man in uniform looked up and asked her.
"Mila Thompson. Interview at nine." she responded.
He checked a list on his tablet, scanned it, nodded once, and handed her a visitor badge. "Clip it on. Elevators to the left. Floor thirty-eight."
"Thank you."
She clipped the badge to her blouse and walked to the elevator as directed.
Her heart was beating.
The door opened on the thirty-eighth floor.
A wide reception area greeted her. White desk. One woman typing steadily behind it.
Mila stepped forward to meet her. "Mila Hart. I have an interview."
The woman looked up. No smile. "Sit there. Someone will come."
She sat on the black leather chair, keeping the folder on her lap. Hands folded over it.
People passed. Phones buzzed low. Shoes clicked on the tile.
"Who is she? I hope she's not here for the job interview? Why is she dressed like a beggar? My Cole will not even look at her." The workers whispered to themselves. They already judged her from her appearance.
Ten minutes. Fifteen.
A woman approached. Tall, dark suit is perfect, hair in a tight bun, and face like stone.
"Vivian Moore," she said. No handshake. "Head of executive staffing. Follow me."
She got up very fast. "Yes, ma'am."
They walked down a long hallway. Frosted glass offices on both sides. Names on doors with different titles.
Vivian handed her a tablet. "First test. Typing and proofreading. You have three minutes. Start now."
"Aight ma'am."
Mila took the tablet. Screen lit up. Paragraph full of errors.
She read quickly, fixed spelling, grammar, and punctuations.
Time beeped. Done.
"Hmmmm.."
Vivian took the tablet. Scanned. Made a note, said nothing.
Next door, small room, one chair, one screen.
"Logic puzzle, schedule conflicts. Reorganize meetings, five minutes."
She had to go through the list carefully. The CEO wants lunch free, investor at 2 p.m, doctor at 3, flight at 5.
She dragged blocks, swapped times, checked twice.
"Done" in four minutes.
Vivian collected the tablet again, another note, still no words.
They kept walking.
"This job demands loyalty, no gossip, no leaks, sensitive information every day, hours change without notice. You drop everything when called."
"I understand."
"Mr. Cole expects perfection, most people fail the first day."
"Noted."
They walked down to Mr. Cole's office and stopped at double doors. Plaque read: Adrian Cole, CEO.
"Knock.. knock" Vivian waited. Listened.
No voice from inside, just silence.
Vivian turned to Mila, looked up and down, eyes narrow.
She reached for the handle.
"Mr. Cole will see you now."
"Thank you."
Mila stepped forward and opened the door slowly.
"Oh my God"
She was in shock seeing how nice the office was.
A man sat behind a wide desk, dark suit, hands folded, no smile, no nod, just a careful look when he finally raised his head.
"Good day Sir." Her voice was steadier than it felt.
"You are two minutes late, what makes you think you can do this job? Sit."
She quietly walked to the chair facing Adrian and sat down. Her legs felt weak.
"Why do you need this job so badly?" he asked again straight away.
"I thought he's supposed to ask me professional questions? Why is he asking this?" she began to wonder in my mind.
She had rehearsed answers to common interview questions on the bus, but this wasn't one of them.
"I—"
Just as she was about to speak, his phone vibrated once on the desk.
He took a glance at the screen, and his expression changed.
Just slightly.
He looked back at her.
"Interesting," he murmured.
Her stomach tightened.
He turned the phone to her, on the screen was a scanned hospital document with Nana's name at the top.
"How, did you expect to keep this from me Mila Hart?"
"Can you? For the last forty-eight hours. The desperate ones stopped first."
He paused.
"So tell me, Mila Thompson" his voice dropped, "what are you willing to sacrifice to keep that hospital bed paid?"