Chapter 13 - I Leave The Cleaning Uniform
My last night with the cleaning contractor was quiet.
I finished the shift.
Returned my badge.
Washed the cart.
Folded the uniform.
My supervisor, Rosa, hugged me.
“You were one of my best workers.”
I laughed.
“I was here for five minutes.”
“You cleaned corners.”
Apparently that mattered.
I had once believed the uniform represented the lowest point of my life.
Then I learned Travis had tried to weaponize it.
Eventually I stopped letting him define it at all.
Cleaning was work.
Honest work.
It paid me when I needed money.
It gave my children stability during chaos.
The people on that crew deserved more respect than most executives I had known.
I left the uniform in the locker because it belonged to the contractor.
May you like
I kept nothing as a symbol.
I was tired of turning objects into lessons.
