The door didn't open. It exploded inward.

The cheap lock gave way with a splintering crunch.

Ardell Lowe stood in the doorway, a cigarette dangling from her lip. Ash fell onto the carpet, joining years of grime.

Karly didn't flinch. She slid the utility knife up her sleeve, the cool metal resting against her forearm.

"You're awake," Ardell snapped. She didn't look at Karly. She never really looked at her. She looked through her, at the space Karly occupied, calculating how much it cost to keep her there.

She threw a stack of papers onto the bed.

"Sign it."

Karly looked down. St. Jude Preparatory Academy - Voluntary Withdrawal Form.

"Hakeem got you a job," Ardell said, smoke curling from her nose. "Night shift at the cannery. Under the table. They don't care about age."

Hakeem leaned against the doorframe. He was younger here, his face smoother, but the cruelty in his eyes was identical to the man who had pushed her off a cliff.

"It's for the family, Karly," he said smoothly. "Dad's disability check isn't enough. We all have to sacrifice."

Sacrifice.

In the last timeline, Karly had signed. She had worked twelve-hour shifts gutting fish until her hands were raw. She had given Hakeem every cent so he could buy new sneakers and pretend he was a big shot.

Ardell stepped forward. Her hand raised. A reflex. A habit.

"I said sign the damn paper, you ungrateful little-"

Karly moved.

It wasn't a flinch. It was a pivot. A calculated shift of weight.

Ardell's hand swiped through empty air. Her momentum carried her forward, and she stumbled, hip checking the corner of the dresser.

"Ow!" Ardell spun around, shock warring with fury. "You little bitch!"

Karly stood perfectly still. Her eyes locked onto Ardell's pupils.

"Don't," Karly said.

The word was quiet. But it carried a weight that froze the room.

"What did you say to me?" Ardell hissed.

"I said don't." Karly picked up the withdrawal form. She held it up so they could both see it. "I'm not quitting school. And I'm not working at the cannery."

Hakeem pushed off the doorframe. "You think you have a choice?"

"I do," Karly said. "Because if you force me out of that school, Ardell, I'm going to call the regional manager of the factory."

Ardell's face went slack. "What?"

"I know about the inventory," Karly said. Her voice was flat, devoid of emotion. "I know you take boxes of copper wire out the back door every Thursday during the shift change. I know you sell them to the scrap yard on Route 9. I know exactly how much you've stolen."

Silence.

The only sound was the hum of the refrigerator in the kitchen.

Ardell paled. The rouge on her cheeks stood out like clown paint. "You... you wouldn't."

"Try me," Karly said.

She ripped the paper.

Riiip.

She tore it in half. Then into quarters. She let the pieces flutter into the trash can like confetti.

"I'm going to school," Karly said. "And I'm going to get a full ride scholarship. You won't pay a dime for me. But if you touch me, or my things, I make the call."

Hakeem stared at her. He looked like he was seeing a stranger. He stepped between Karly and Ardell, placing a hand on his mother's shoulder.

"Let's go, Ma," he muttered.

"But-"

"Let's go." Hakeem's eyes stayed on Karly. They were calculating. Assessing the threat. "We'll figure something else out."

They backed out of the room. Hakeem pulled the broken door shut as best he could.

Karly waited until she heard their footsteps retreat to the living room.

She leaned back against the wall and exhaled. Her knees were shaking. Not from fear. From adrenaline. Her body was weak, malnourished, flooded with cortisol.

She looked at the calendar again.

Final exams were next week.

And her father, Gus... his eyesight was failing. In the old timeline, he went blind three months from now.

Karly reached under the mattress and pulled out a burner phone she had hidden there in her past life.

She had work to do.

The kitchen faucet groaned when Karly turned the handle. Brown water sputtered out before running clear. She filled a chipped mug and drank.

In the living room, Ardell was on the phone.

"Yeah, boss. Cough's real bad. Can't come in." Ardell made a fake hacking sound. She winked at Hakeem, who was polishing a pair of Jordans on the sofa.

She wasn't sick. She was going to the casino. Hakeem had given her twenty bucks from his 'savings'-money Karly had earned cleaning houses last month.

Karly set the mug down. She heard a muffled curse and a heavy thud from her father's room down the hall, followed by Ardell screaming at him to be quiet. A knot of ice formed in her stomach. That sound was new.

She walked out the front door, past the rusted swing set, down the gravel road to the gas station on the corner.

She stepped into the phone booth. It smelled of urine and stale tobacco.

She dropped a quarter into the slot. She dialed a number she remembered from a lawsuit deposition ten years in the future.

"Factory Human Resources, anonymous tip line," a recorded voice said. "Please leave your message."

Karly pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and covered the mouthpiece.

"Ardell Lowe. Shift 4. She is currently in possession of stolen copper wire stored in the trunk of her '98 Civic. She is calling in sick today to sell it."

Karly hung up.

She felt nothing. No guilt. No daughterly hesitation. Ardell was a parasite. You didn't negotiate with parasites. You excised them.

When she got back to the trailer, Hakeem was waiting on the porch steps.

"Hey, Karly." He put on his 'good brother' face. The one that used to fool her. "Ma's just stressed, you know? Don't take it personal."

Karly looked at him. She wanted to vomit.

"I know," she lied. "I don't blame her."

"Good." Hakeem smiled. It didn't reach his eyes. "About the money... since you won't work at the cannery, I was thinking. There are ways to make cash at that fancy school of yours."

Karly stiffened. "What kind of ways?"

"Rich kids are dumb," Hakeem said. "They need homework done. Papers written. Sometimes... they need someone to take the fall for stuff."

Inside the trailer, a scream shattered the morning.

Something crashed against a wall.

Ardell burst out the screen door, phone clutched in her hand like a weapon.

"They fired me!" she shrieked. "Those bastards fired me over the phone!"

Hakeem jumped up. "What? Why?"

"Said they got a tip! Said they're checking the cameras!" Ardell looked wild. She scanned the neighborhood, eyes darting to the neighbor's house. "It was that bitch next door! She saw me loading the trunk!"

She didn't look at Karly. Why would she? Karly was the furniture. The punching bag.

"We're screwed," Hakeem said, his voice tight. "We need that check."

Ardell spun on Karly. "You hear that? I'm out of work. You have to step up. I don't care about your scholarship."

"I can't work legally," Karly said, backing away, feigning fear. "I'm a minor."

Hakeem stepped in. "I told you, Ma. I got a plan. She can make bank at St. Jude's. Under the table."

Ardell glared at Karly. "Every cent. You bring me every cent, or you sleep outside."

"Okay," Karly whispered, looking at her shoes. "I'll do it."

Ardell stormed back inside to find the vodka.

Hakeem patted Karly's shoulder. His hand felt heavy, possessive.

"I'll look out for you, sis," he said. "Just do what I say."

Karly watched him walk away.

He had no idea. He thought he was building a trap for her.

He was just digging his own grave.

The bus stop bench was cold metal.

Karly sat with her knees pulled together, her St. Jude uniform skirt threadbare at the hem.

A low purr vibrated through the asphalt.

A black Maybach glided down the street. It was an alien spaceship in this neighborhood of rusted pickups and broken dreams.

The rear window slid down.

Karly's breath hitched.

Bertrand Norton.

He was young. Twenty-two. His jawline was sharp enough to cut glass, his eyes hidden behind dark aviators. He looked bored. Detached.

In another life, he had looked at her with adoration. He had held her while she cried. He had been her husband.

Now, his head turned. His gaze swept over the bus stop.

It passed right over her.

He didn't see Karly Lowe. He saw a piece of scenery. A generic poor girl in a uniform.

The car accelerated, disappearing around the corner.

Karly dug her fingernails into her palms until crescents of blood appeared.

Not yet, she told herself. You are nothing to him yet.

She boarded the school bus. The smell of diesel and unwashed bodies grounded her.

When she arrived at St. Jude's, she went straight to the administration office.

"I need to check my enrollment status," she told the secretary, Mrs. Gable.

Mrs. Gable didn't look up from her typing. "Name?"

"Karly Lowe."

The typing stopped. Mrs. Gable peered over her glasses. "Lowe? Your withdrawal is being processed. Your guardian, Ardell Lowe, submitted the forms yesterday."

Karly's stomach dropped. Hakeem. He hadn't just threatened. He had acted.

"I didn't sign those," Karly said.

"It has your signature." Mrs. Gable pulled a file. She showed Karly the paper. It was a decent forgery. Hakeem had been practicing.

"It's a fake. I want to rescind it."

Mrs. Gable sighed. "It's already in the system, dear. To reinstate, you need a guardian's signature in person. And since your mother already signed off, that's unlikely. Or..." She glanced at a fee schedule. "You pay the administrative reinstatement penalty. Since you're on financial aid, a withdrawal triggers a penalty clause."

"How much?"

"Two thousand dollars."

Karly stared at the woman. She had maybe four dollars in her pocket.

She walked out of the office, her mind racing.

Her phone buzzed. A text from the neighbor.

Your dad fell again. Said it was because he couldn't see out of left eye at all now. Taking him to ER.

Karly stopped in the middle of the hallway. Students in cashmere sweaters flowed around her like a river around a stone.

Blindness. It was happening faster this time. That thud she heard… it wasn't just a stumble. Her fight with Ardell had triggered this.

She needed money. She needed a surgeon.

She thought of Dr. Vance.

Dr. Richard Vance. Chief of Neurosurgery at St. Jude Hospital. A brilliant, arrogant man. In her past life, his career ended in scandal in 2016. But in 2014, he was a god.

He was also the only one who could fix her father's optic nerve compression.

Karly checked her watch. First period was starting.

She turned around and walked toward the exit.

"Hey! Trash!"

Karly didn't stop.

Holli Talley stepped in front of her. Blonde, perfect, vicious. She held a steaming latte.

"Didn't you hear me?" Holli sneered. "Or are you deaf as well as poor?"

She tilted the cup. Brown liquid sloshed over the rim, splashing onto Karly's shoes.

"Oops." Holli smirked.

Karly looked at the stain. Then she looked at Holli.

She didn't cry. She didn't apologize.

She stepped forward, invading Holli's personal space.

"Get out of my way," Karly said.

Holli blinked. She wasn't used to resistance. "Excuse me?"

Karly shoved past her. Her shoulder checked Holli's, hard enough to make the girl stumble.

"You heard me," Karly threw over her shoulder.

She left Holli standing there, mouth open, as she marched out the double doors.