Chapter 9

Chris Cornell’s voice was coming through the little horns connected to her laptop, Emma humming just part of the lyrics as she stirred quickly around the cramped space of her apartment with a mop in her hand, the volume of the music low enough so as not to disturb her neighbors, but loud enough so that she could get on with her task of cleaning her apartment.

There wasn’t much to do that day except clean and tidy up her closet, which was always a mess because every week she struggled to find her clothes or her work uniform, always at the last minute and not being sure of her outfit, which meant going back to the wardrobe and messing everything up until she found something she liked.

“If money would yield like laundry yields I’d be rich” Emma muttered to herself looking at the basket of clothes she had to wash.

As she folded it to place it in a cover to then take it to the laundry room in the