Derrick often woke in the predawn hours, stirred by a relentless mind that worried over unpaid bills and a near-empty fridge. Before Rusty came into his life, he had spent many mornings staring at peeling wallpaper in cramped apartments, wondering where he would find money for that day’s meal. A stifling hopelessness weighed him down, threatening to suffocate all ambition.
There was a time when Derrick held a decent job at a small manufacturing plant. He manned a machine press, working grueling shifts yet receiving steady pay. That security evaporated when the plant shut down unexpectedly, leaving dozens of employees—Derrick among them—scrambling for meager work in an already struggling job market.