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.

The hospital smelled of antiseptic and money. St. Jude's Medical Center was private, exclusive, and expensive.

Karly slipped past the volunteer desk while the receptionist was on the phone. She knew the layout. She had worked here as a resident in another life.

She took the stairs to the fourth floor. Neurosurgery.

Dr. Vance's office was at the end of the hall. The door was open.

Karly knocked on the frame.

Dr. Vance looked up. He was a silver fox, handsome in a way that suggested he knew it.

"This isn't pediatrics," he said, eyeing her uniform. "Are you lost?"

"I'm Gus Lowe's daughter," Karly said, stepping inside. "I'm here to discuss his surgery."

Vance laughed. A short, bark of a sound. "Gus Lowe? The man whose insurance was declined three times? The surgery is cancelled."

"I can pay you," Karly said. "Not in cash. In value."

Vance raised an eyebrow. "Value?"

"I know you're working on the cortical mapping project," Karly said quickly. "I know you're stuck on the temporal lobe interface. I can show you how to bypass the signal noise."

Vance froze. "How do you know about that? That research is unpublished."

"I read," Karly said. "I can fix your algorithm. In exchange for my father's surgery."

Vance stared at her. For a second, she saw curiosity.

Then, he opened his desk drawer. He pulled out a piece of paper.

"Your brother was here this morning," Vance said. His voice was cold now.

Karly's heart sank.

"He signed a waiver refusing treatment on your father's behalf," Vance said. "And he warned me that his sister is a pathological liar with a drug problem who might try to scam the hospital for pain meds."

"He's lying," Karly said. "He wants the disability check."

"Get out," Vance said. He reached for the phone. "Or I call security."

"Dr. Vance, listen to me. The compression on his optic nerve is-"

"Security," Vance said into the receiver. "I have an intruder in my office."

Karly grit her teeth. She turned and walked out.

Defeat tasted like ash. Hakeem was always one step ahead. He was thorough in his greed.

She walked down the hallway, her fists clenched.

Hakeem was leaning against the wall near the elevators, flirting with a young nurse. He'd clearly talked his way past the floor's reception desk, likely spinning a sob story about his poor, blind father and his 'troubled' sister.

He saw Karly and pushed off the wall. A smug grin spread across his face.

"Told you," he whispered as she passed. "Dad's better off blind. We get the check. You don't have to worry about bills."

Karly stopped. She looked at his throat. She knew exactly where to punch to collapse his windpipe.

Not here, she reminded herself. Cameras.

She pushed past him toward the restrooms. She needed cold water on her face. She needed to think.

She pushed open the restroom door.

A woman was screaming.

Not a horror movie scream. A primal, terrified sound.

A young mother was shaking an infant. The baby was blue. Silent.

"Help! Someone help!"

A nurse rushed in from the hall. "Code Blue! Pediatric airway!"

The nurse grabbed an oxygen mask from the wall unit. She tried to force it over the baby's face.

"No!" Karly shouted.

The nurse ignored her. She squeezed the bag.

Karly saw the baby's chest fail to rise. The air pressure was pushing the obstruction further down.

"Stop!" Karly lunged. "It's a complete blockage! You're killing her!"

Dr. Vance appeared in the doorway.

"What is going on here?" he bellowed. "Security! Get that girl out of here!"