You've never been great with money, but you're smart enough to know that taking out another

loan is going to be a huge pain, a long-term pain.

But somehow, the future pain of a loan feels worth it to handle the overwhelm of the present.

The reality that you're not really equipped to take care of your dad.

At breakfast, you tell your father that you're looking into some options to pay for home

care.

You try to be vague, so he doesn't worry.

It's depressing and soul-sucking and terrifying, but you do look into it.

And eventually, take out the best loan you can find.

Which might not be the best loan there is, honestly, it's hard to tell.

When the money hits your bank account, you book appointments with some potential caregivers.

Even with the loan, you can't afford for a caregiver to work whole days.

But you find a lovely woman named Mae, who comes by and helps in the mornings.

She's quiet, but firm, she hates small talk.

But your dad actually listens to her, which grants you time to work and study.

You try not to think about the money too much, but it's hard when your mailbox is crammed

full of ads from random loan companies, trying to con you into their latest high-interest

scam.

You throw them all on the trash, cursing whichever company sold your information to the

vultures.

A few months later, Mae slides a letter at you across the kitchen counter.

She points at it, like it's potentially full of anthrax, and scowls at you, like you're

...