When Storms Collide

"THE FOOD TRUCK"

The morning light streamed through the lace curtains of the Morrison house's cozy living room, creating gentle shadows on the aged wooden floor.

In the corner, a tiny clock ticked consistently, its soft presence, a reminder of time's passage.

"I want you and your family to leave my house right now," Mr. Madrigal insisted in his deep voice.

"It has been more than three months, and you have yet to pay the rent." "I can't continue to tolerate this!"

"Kindly grant us additional time." "I assure you I will settle the payment before the month concludes," replied Albert Morrison.

With a look of fury on his face, he replies, "That's the precise answer you've provided every time I visit, but there's been no action to support it."

"If you don't settle your payment by the end of the month, I will be forced to make you and your family leave."

He forcefully shuts the door behind him as he leaves.

With his hands cupped under his chin, Mr. Morrison pondered. "What should I do?"

Isabella walks into the room beaming, her movements light and untroubled. Her hazel eyes glimmer as she welcomes her parents.

Her parents' expressions, typically brimming with love and kindness, were now marked by sorrow, and their eyes carried a subdued, grave look shrouded in concern.

Isabella's eyebrows knitted together in worry as she neared her parents.

Her tone, gentle yet determined. "What is the issue?" She inquired, her eyes darting back and forth between them.

Her mother, perched rigidly on the frayed sofa, attempted to speak but hesitated, her eyes shimmering with unspilled tears.

At last, taking a trembling breath, she murmurs, "Isabella... we have until the month's end. "If we fail to..." her voice trembled.

Isabella felt a heavy sadness wash over her as the burden of her mother's words hit her-if they don't come up with the money, they'd lose the only home they had ever known.

"Do not worry. We will not lose our home," Isabella assured firmly as she wipes the tears off her mother's cheeks.

Her father sighed deeply, rubbing his temples. "How are we even going to come up with such a large sum in so little time?" He asked, his voice heavy and worried.

"I'm coming from Mr.Gilmore's garage. I went there to check out a truck for the food truck business I mentioned last week."

"He has decided to give it to me on credit while I pay for it as I make money from the business."

Her mother's eyes widened, and a small smile broke through her worried expression. "Oh, he is such an amazing man," she said softly.

"Yes," Isabella agreed, nodding.

"We can start by letting or neighbors know about the food truck business," Isabella suggested, her eyes alight with determination.hopefully a few of them will stop by.

"I want to take a risk by making the meals on the first day really affordable. This will grab the attention of people in the neighborhood. By the second day, we'll start attracting more customers."

Her father leaned forward, with a concerned look, he says: "oh, my dear isa, I admire your courage. I do hope you're able to cook for such a large scale as it is something you've never done."

"Don't worry about that, dad. Together, we'd pull this off."

They all lean in for a group hug.

THE NEXT MORNING

Isabella wakes up feeling groggy.

She decides to fix herself a cup of coffe to shake off the lingering sleepiness.

She has to be at the Saratoga arts center by 10:00 AM and she couldn't afford to miss he classes for the day.

As she moved around her room, a sudden realization hit her-she hadn't seen her cousin, Tatiana since she left the house yesterday.

"Where could that girl be now?" She spoke out to herself.