Chapter 477

The fire crackled in the stove, filling the room with the warm aroma of roasted peanuts.

Iris White pinched a peanut between her fingers, her hand trembling slightly. "The factory held another meeting today," she said, her voice tight. "Starting next month, they'll only pay basic wages." She swallowed hard. "Henry... we might lose our jobs."

Henry Cooper tossed another coal briquette into the stove, sending sparks flying. "Don't worry. I'll take care of us, no matter what." He cracked open a peanut and pressed the kernel into his wife's palm. "Try it. Fresh from this year's harvest. Sweet as can be."

Iris had no appetite. The food factory's warehouse was overflowing with unsold stock, and rumors of layoffs swirled among the workers. "We're both in our forties. If we really lose our jobs..." She clutched the edge of her apron. "Hannah's tuition, Charlie's wedding..."

"Shh—" Henry suddenly perked up. Outside, the jingle of a bicycle bell rang out, followed by the postman's shout: "Henry Cooper! Money order!"

Henry bolted out the door and returned moments later, waving a green slip triumphantly. "Look! William sent money again—five thousand this time!" His eyes gleamed. "That boy's doing well in the city."

Iris counted the zeros on the slip, her hands shaking. "This much money... What kind of business is he running there?"

"Doesn't matter, as long as it's honest." Henry carefully folded the money order. "Perfect timing. Let's visit the city for the New Year. I heard..." He lowered his voice. "People are buying trucks for hauling goods. One trip can earn you this much." He flashed a hand signal.

Iris gasped. "You're not thinking—"

The firelight cast sharp shadows across Henry's determined face. "If the factory really goes under, we can't just sit here waiting to starve." He squeezed his wife's cold hands. "I've got a driver's license, and all these years driving for the factory, never a single accident. William wrote that the city's booming with construction—they don't have enough trucks to haul materials."

Outside, the first snow of winter began to fall. Iris watched the flakes swirl and whispered, "Maybe... we should leave early? There's no work at the factory anyway."

Henry grinned. "My thoughts exactly! We'll buy tickets tomorrow and take the kids with us." He winked. "And while we're there... we'll check out the truck market."

Iris's heart raced. She remembered her sister's last letter, raving about the bustling night markets in the city. "Actually..." she hesitated. "The neighbors always say my pickles taste better than the factory's..."

The couple exchanged a smile. The firelight flickered behind them, their shadows merging into something new.