Things had been miserable before, but at least she understood them. In their own broken way, they made sense. The force of her emotions shook her body as she ran, her footsteps unsteady. For years she had worked in her stepfather’s bar, suffering the insults and the low wages. Almost everyone in her small town feared her stepfather. Despite Gloria trying to find another job that actually paid at least minimum wage, no one would hire her. When one of the employers that rejected her later went and told her stepfather that she was looking for another job, things became even worse. “When your mother died, didn’t I take you in?” he shouted. “Didn’t I give you a roof over your head and food on your plate? I gave you a job! It’s your fault, fatty, that you’re too lazy to work hard enough to earn a decent wage.” But she did work! She worked harder than anyone else in that place.
