My mouth falls open. I can’t move, can’t breathe. I can just stand there and watch in numb horror as they all leave… until it’s just me. Alone in the apartment.
Unemployed. Zero job prospects. Forty thousand dollars. One week.
I slump against the broken doorframe, the impossibility of it all crushing down on me.
How the hell am I supposed to do this?
9
LENI
I drift to the window in a daze, watching Rick’s men shove Ethan and Mom into the back of a van like they’re loading cargo. I don’t look away until the vehicle disappears down the street. Then my eyes find my scooter, and for a second, I seriously consider riding off—taking the back roads, hitting the highway, and never coming back to New York.
It’s barely past 3 AM. The streets are eerily quiet, but I know once I reach the main roads, they’ll be busy. NYC isn’t called the city that never sleeps for nothing.
I lean against the cold glass, trying to make sense of everything. Maybe… maybe this is exactly what Mom needs. A wake-up call. She’s a grown woman, and if anything could finally shake her out of her spiral, it’s this. Seeing her son taken, being thrown into whatever hellhole Rick’s men are dragging them to… it has to shock her back to reality, right?
Oh, who am I kidding?
The only thing that could possibly bring her back is seeing her long-lost husband again. But after he went missing for a few weeks, the police declared him dead. That’s when shestarted using. And now she’s so deep into her addiction that even rehab might not be enough to help her.
Where do I get twenty–seven grand in seven days?Because let’s be real—there’s no way I’m pulling together forty. Best case, I borrow the original loan amount first, then try to negotiate with Rick about the interest.
Suddenly, the lights flicker out, plunging me into complete darkness. My shoulders slump, my head hitting the window pane with a dull thump. Of course. Now the electricity is gone too.
My heart thumps wildly as I glance back into the oppressive black of the living room.What great timing.I don’t even have my phone with me.
I stretch out my arms and feel my way across the room, skirting where Ithinkthe couch might be. Thank God it’s the only furniture left in here. If I can just avoid it, I’ll be fi?—
My knee knocks what feels like the armrest.
“Fucking hell,” I curse, waving my arms around until I find the back of the couch. Then I step back and redirect my path.
Shit, shit, shit.
The farther I move from the window, the darker it becomes, until I’m swimming in absolute blackness that makes my skin crawl.
I didn’t even know darkness could have layers, but this… this feels alive.
Someone’s watching you.
The thought slams into my brain with irrational certainty. My pulse stutters, paranoia creeping up my spine. I swear I feel eyes on me, someone closing in—there’s even a sensation of hot breath on my neck.Fuck.I walk faster, hands waving frantically until they smack against a wall. Then I follow it like a lifeline, until it opens up into the hallway.
First door on the left is Mom’s. Sweat trickles down my forehead as I pass it.Almost there.
Mine is the second one on the right. I shift to the right wall and fumble around until I find the handle, nearly crying with relief when it turns. The door swings open, and blessed moonlight spills through my wide-open curtains, along with the occasional flicker of a streetlamp. It’s not much, but it’s a hell of a lot better than the suffocating black behind me.
I close my door and lock it—just in case.
Wait… did I lock the front door?No. It was broken open, dumbass.
Goosebumps rise along my arms as the thought sinks in. Anyone could walk in. Anyone could be walking inright now.
I gulp and rush to my bed where my phone sits next to my pillow. Grabbing it, I hold it tightly as I glance around the room. There’s no furniture heavy enough I can barricade the door with. Mom sold my vanity mirror last month. So, knife in one hand, phone in the other, I sink to the floor in front of my door and prepare for the longest night of my life.
Sleep never comes. Every creak of the building, every distant siren, every phantom footstep in the hall sends my heart into overdrive and my mind spinning with worst-case scenarios—burglars, addicts looking for Mom’s stash, Rick’s men coming back to… to… what? I don’t even know.
Girl, you need to stop. Right now. Breathe.