I cried when I read that one.
Not because I had saved anyone.
Because I remembered how difficult it had been for me to make that same first move.
A few weeks later, a media company contacted me.
They had read my story.
They offered me a position working with their community storytelling team.
I almost laughed when I saw the salary.
It was more than I had ever imagined earning.
But the money wasn’t what mattered most.
The work was.
I would be helping create stories and resources for people facing financial control, family pressure, and difficult transitions.
On my first day, someone at the office looked at me and smiled.
“You’re Laya, right?”
“Yes.”
“The fridge story.”
I laughed.
“Apparently that’s my official title now.”
She smiled.
“That story helped my sister.”
I didn’t know what to say.
So I simply said thank you.
That evening, I came home to find Ben sitting at the kitchen table coloring.
