The closer she wanted to be to the Katana's, the worse she felt. If she allowed herself to accept the Katanas as family, she felt it would be a betrayal to her dead father, and her mother who was locked in an asylum. The guilt was overwhelming, so she chose distance over closeness. As long as Betty was suffering and was alone, she remained loyal to their memory. Betty didn’t want any personal attachments and focused on the mission.
It started snowing
Winter brought heavy snows to the Citadel. It shut down the city for days at a time. Betty took a small apartment, near the hospital. She never missed a day of work, nursing school, or her training. She trudged a path through winter, kept busy and stayed on schedule. Time passed quickly
Eventually, graduation from nursing school was upon her. It had always seemed like something way off in the future, but it finally arrived. Nursing school had taken second place to her other training. She wasn't at the top of her class or at the bottom. She did just enough to get by. At the graduation ceremony, Betty sat and blended in with the rest class. They all wore pointed nurse’s caps and blue capes. One-by-one they were called to receive their diplomas. Their families applauded from the audience. Betty expected silence when her turn came, but to her surprise Sister Hazel jumped to her feet and cheered. She was soon joined by the rest of the nuns from the shelter where Betty had lived with her family.
The black and white block of women applauded and carried on. They were proud enough for the entire crowd. Betty smiled and waved at them. She had no idea how rowdy a pack of nuns could be when they were loose in the wild. She tried to motion them to settle down, but they kept on. They knew this was a real accomplishment for a girl who had lost so much, so young. She never gave up. Betty did it all by herself and no could ever take that away from her.
Betty returned to her seat and unrolled the paper gift. The language was cryptic, but one line stuck out to her. "…The recipient can now become a productive member of society."
She laughed.
Betty easily got a job at the hospital where she'd been interning for so long. As much as she enjoyed the work, her first paycheck was a huge disappointment. It was so small. It was much less then she expected. Her tuition, her apartment, and the washing machines, all took a big bite out of her savings. It was a disheartening set back in her plan to buy back the family farm. She was used to a Razzles size salary and she missed it. Without the income from Razzles it was doubtful she could get the farm back any time soon, if ever. She needed a new plan to replenish her account. She had come to far to give up.
She wondered about getting a mortgage, but didn’t think it would work. The guy who held the deed would never sell it to Betty, not after what happened the last time they met. If anything, he would go out of his way to keep it from her if he knew she was in on the deal. She seethed and thought, "I needed to push Carson out of the way.”
She fantasized about blackmailing the bastard for a moment. But feared he would still have more power in the situation than her. Since he would know where she would be living, he could have her killed if he wanted. She was trapped by the circumstance and there weren't many ways of escaping. She knew the only people who had money in these tough times were the rich. The only way she knew how to get it from them was to steal it, or go back the place where they threw it at her, Razzles.
She had to get back in somehow. She couldn't go back there the way she left. She needed to be anonymous. She wondered if she could disguise herself so that no one would recognize her; not her old friends, her old boss, her customers or that fiendish banker.
For days Betty tried to follow up on a lead. She was looking for a man named Alfonzo Beznik, the Gypsy. He was an illusive figure who owned a costume shop that never seemed to be open. It's hours where erratic. She'd made several attempts at a visit, but each time the store was closed. Usually there would be a hand written note on the door, guessing the next hour they expected to be in business. But the written predictions never came true. One note would say, come back at five, then at five it would say, sorry we missed you, try back tomorrow at noon. She followed the erratic trail of instructions to no end. If it weren’t for the changing signs, Betty would have assumed the business was shut down. It was frustrating. If she had another choice, she would have given up.
One night while working the third shift at the hospital, the patient census was low. So they let some nurses go home early. It was 12 am and Betty was free to leave. She exited into the night.