Chapter 196

Eleanor's POV

I gripped the phone tighter, silence my only response. To them, I was just being selfish, desperate.

He never even asked why I needed the money.

"Sorry to bother you," I managed finally, ending the call.

I stared at the stained ceiling of the dingy motel, so far from the penthouse I once called home. I could give up now, let whatever happens tonight happen. Death doesn't frighten me anymore.

But then Maya's face flashed through my mind. Maya Coleman - worn down by life, hands calloused from work, yet still managing to make me nutritious meals despite her poverty...

Tears rolled down my cheeks unbidden. I'd sworn I'd never forgive her, never soften toward her, never accept her as my mother.

Yet here I was, after just two weeks, worrying about what would happen to her.

I lost track of how long I cried. The tears just kept coming until Linda's message lit up my phone.

The offer she'd found me was for an adult film. Fifty thousand dollars, negotiated down because they knew I was desperate. Linda wasn't trying to insult me - she'd seen too many fallen stars to judge. She was just doing what she could to help.

My hands shook as I dialed the director's number. "Just one condition," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "No face shots."

"That'll affect the price."

"I know."

After hanging up the phone, I got up to take a shower - fluctuating water temperature, garbage and hair on the floor, the cheapest possible toiletries. I'd gotten used to it all, just like I'd gotten used to everything else about my new reality.

Maya was waiting when I came out. "Going somewhere?"

I nodded.

She pressed some crumpled bills into my hand - maybe fifty dollars total. Everything she had. "Don't come back."

I took the money silently. I couldn't even afford a taxi anymore. But I also knew what would happen to her if I actually stayed away - the beating she'd take from Tom.

The phone's harsh blue light pierces the darkness of the stairwell, Quinn's name flashing across my screen. I let it ring once, twice, three times before my trembling finger finally swipes to answer.

"Eleanor." Quinn's voice carries that familiar mix of anger and concern. "Why are you avoiding us?"

My throat tightens. Tomorrow's Serena's court date. I should be there, standing beside her like I promised. Instead, I'm here in this dim stairwell, my back pressed against cold concrete, trying to find words that won't shatter what little composure I have left.

"I'm not avoiding anyone," I manage, but the lie tastes bitter. "I've just been... busy."

"Busy?" Quinn's tone sharpens. "That's what you're going with? We both know tomorrow-"

"I know what tomorrow is." My fingers grip the metal railing until my knuckles turn white. "I haven't forgotten."

The silence that follows feels heavy, loaded with all the things we're not saying. I close my eyes, and for a moment, I'm back in the Harrington mansion. The memory cuts deeper than any knife.

"I received your messages," I continue softly. "And Serena's. I just... I needed time."

"Time for what? To torture yourself?" Quinn's voice cracks with frustration. "We're your friends, Eleanor. Whatever you're going through-"

"You don't understand." The words burst out before I can stop them. "The Harringtons once were *my* family." My laugh comes out hollow. "And now it's gone. Not just the money or the status. Everything I thought I knew about myself... it's all collapsed."

"Then let us help you rebuild."

"No." I press my palm flat against the wall, steadying myself. "I need to do this alone."

"Since when did friendship become charity?" Quinn's anger flares. "Eleanor Yates, how dare you reduce what we have to mere *handouts*?"

The use of my full name makes me flinch. "That's not what I meant."

"Then explain it to me. Because from where I'm standing, you're just being stubborn and proud."

"Yes, I'm proud!" The words echo in the empty stairwell. "I'm proud, and it's all I have left. Don't you see? You and Serena... you're my last lifeline. If I come to you now, like this..." My voice catches. "If I lean on you and still can't find my way back..."

"I'm still here," I finally whisper. "I'm surviving. When I can't anymore, when life strips away every last shred of dignity and hope... then I'll come to you. But please, let me try this my way first."

I hear Quinn draw in a sharp breath, preparing for another argument. But something in my voice must reach her because when she speaks again, her tone has softened.

"Promise me one thing," she says. "Promise you won't let it get that far before you reach out."

My thumb hovers over the end call button. "Goodbye, Quinn. Tell Serena..." I swallow hard. "Tell her I'm sorry."

I end the call before she can respond, letting my phone slip into my pocket as I slide down the wall to sit on the cold steps.

Serena's POV

Quinn's trembling fingers dial Eleanor's number again, but this time, we're met with the automated message indicating her phone is switched off. The blue light from the screen illuminates Quinn's face, highlighting the tears gathering in her eyes. My heart aches at the sight.

"She's never had to struggle like this before," Quinn whispers, her voice breaking. "How is she supposed to manage on her own? She's always had everything handed to her..."

I watch as Quinn's fingers grip her phone tighter, her knuckles turning white.

"I understand why she's doing this," I say softly, thinking back to my own days of struggle. "It's not just about facing things alone or proving something to herself. She's trying to protect us."

Quinn's head snaps up, her eyes flashing with a mixture of anger and disbelief. "Protect us? She's out there somewhere, probably barely getting by, and she's worried about *us*?"

"Yes." I lean back against the wall, choosing my words carefully. "Eleanor knows our connections to the Harringtons. She's afraid that helping her might bring their retaliation down on us. That's just who she is - thinking of others even when she's at her lowest."

A bitter laugh escapes Quinn's throat. "That idiot! I don't care if I have to burn every bridge with the Sherwoods. How could she think we'd abandon her?"

I understand Quinn's frustration, but I also see something else - something familiar in Eleanor's choice. "We should respect her decision," I say, surprising even myself with the certainty in my voice.

"Serena-"

"I know what it's like," I interrupt gently. "Being cast out by the family you trusted, having everything stripped away." The memories of my own past with the Sinclairs surface, but they don't sting like they used to. "Sometimes, hitting rock bottom is what forces you to rebuild yourself."

Quinn's shoulders slump. "But she doesn't have to do it alone."

"No, she doesn't. But she needs to believe that she can." I reach out and squeeze Quinn's hand. "Eleanor isn't as fragile as we think. This might be exactly what she needs to discover her own strength."

After a moment of silence, Quinn nods slowly. "You'll keep an eye on her though, right? Just... just in case?"

"Of course." I manage a small smile. "We'll give her the space she needs, but we won't let her fall too far."