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Streams of jubilant students with smiley faces flowed out of exam rooms, chattering and laughing in clutters. The air was thick with freedom and exhaustion, and the atmosphere, once tense from the anxiety of exams, was now effervescent.

I raced down the concrete stairs, feet pounding against the steps with my backpack slung over my shoulder, my mind reeling with excitement. I could finally breathe after all those countless hours of burning the midnight oil, sacrificing sleep for grades.

We'd resume next semester, but at least it was over for now, and I was going to utilize this break like never before. I needed a time out for myself, and who better to blow off some steam with than my adventurous friend, Ravyn Jensen?

“Hey, Lori, wait up!” a familiar voice came from behind me, their rapid footsteps clattering over the floor as they approached.

“Beck, hi.” My smile broadened as I swiveled to face him.

He bent over, hands on his knees, as he tried to catch his breath. “Phew! That was a lot of running.” He panted, raising a hand as if to ask for some time.

I laughed lightly, shaking my head. “No, it wasn't. The exam room is just upstairs.”

“Yeah, but you're forgetting the stairs,” he said, struggling to straighten his body.

“Ahh. The stairs.” I clicked my tongue like I just remembered, sarcasm lacing my tone.

“Fourteen steps. That's how many I had to sprint down,” he said, his voice still heavy, puffing out his rounded cheeks.

“It's called exercise, Beck.” I shrugged my shoulders, eyes roaming over his portly form that filled the hallway. “It'll help you burn some of that excess fat.” My eyes caught the sweat stains on his XXL T-shirt and the slight wobble of his double chin.

His face reddened, a playful scowl settling, and his brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “Haha, very funny.” A sarcastic smile spread across his round face. His tone was dry, eyes rolling. “Yeah, real original.”

I let out a dismissive laugh, a mischievous grin playing on my lips.

Beck's expression softened, his voice dripping with gratitude when he spoke. “But seriously, though. Thank you for helping me out back in there.” He gestured toward the exam room. “I owe you one.”

My face lit up with a bright smile as I met his warm, grateful eyes. “No problem, Beck. I've got you.” I raised my fist.

He scoffed, his knuckles meeting mine in a fist bump. “If you ever need anything, don't hesitate to call.”

“Got it,” came my reply, eyes scanning the bustling hallway, searching for someone in particular. “Hey, have you seen Ravyn?” I asked, returning my gaze to him.

“No,” he said, receding with silent footsteps. “But when you do find her, tell her I said she owes me a sandwich.”

His tone was jovial as he turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

I squinted, wondering what he meant by that, but knowing Ravyn, she must have snatched his sandwich at some point—before or after the exams, I wasn't sure.

I picked up my pace, nodding and exchanging smiles with familiar faces until I rounded a corner and spotted her leaning against the locker, eating a sandwich.

“There you are!” she exclaimed with her mouth full when she saw me waking up to her. “I've been looking all over for you.”

“Same here.” I halted in front of her, my heart racing with excitement.

We stared at each other, mirroring our faces with uncontrollable smiles before finally letting out a joyous shriek in unison. “Ahhh!”

Our arms flailed as we embraced each other in a tight hug.

“We did it, Ravyn!” I pulled away, feeling the rush of excitement flowing through my blood. “We survived.”

She released me and took another bite of her sandwich. “I am so done with exams. Thank God.” A deep groan of relief escaped her lips. Her eyes widened, sparkling with mirth. “So, what's the plan: dinner, movies…partying all night?” She threw her hands in the air, her body swaying to an imaginary music.

“I'll do you one better,” I said, my lips curling into a mischievous grin.

She squinted, tilting her head to the side, as she anticipated my response.

“We're going to Hawaii,” I announced, retaining her smile.

Her brows arched in surprise. “For real?” A glint of amusement danced in her eyes. “Usually, I'm the one who comes up with stuff like this.”

I laughed, shrugging my shoulders. “Well, it turns out that I'm picking up a thing or two from you.”

“Atta girl!” She wrapped her arm around me.

“Oh…and, uh, Beck says to tell you that you owe him a sandwich,” I relayed the message amidst chuckles.

She raised her brows, her expression transforming to incredulity. “You mean this sandwich?” She flashed it before my eyes. “Well, tell Beck that I'll buy a sandwich when he buys himself a treadmill.”

I burst out laughing. “I'll pass that on.”

Her lips curled into a smirk as we headed out of the hallway. “Better yet, tell him I said he owes me a gym membership for having to watch him eat that whole pizza two days ago.”

I laughed so hard my ribs ached.

“Seriously, that guy needs portion control,” she added, giggling as she munched on his sandwich without remorse.

I squinted at the sun's brightness, a palm hovering over my eyes as we stepped outside, strolling down the long steps at the entrance.

We glided through the parking lot, the warm sun casting a golden glow on the vehicles and motorcycles. We headed toward Ravyn's shiny black Mercedes Benz and settled into the plush cream-colored interior.

The air was filled with the aroma of fine leather and the soft hum of the engine roaring to life as she started the car.

“Where to?” Ravyn asked, stealing a glance at me, riding shotgun.

“Anywhere but here,” I replied, taking out my phone from my back pocket. “We've got a trip to plan.” My brows wiggled at her.

“Oh, I like the sound of that.” Her smirk broadened, the car's tires squealing as she noisily drove away.

“Okay…” I drawled lazily, eyes fixed on my phone's screen as I navigated through the airline's website. “Let’s book those tickets, shall we?” I muttered under my breath, filling out the necessary forms.

“I can't wait to get out of this city. I feel suffocated already,” Ravyn said, eyes fixed on the road. “You did good coming up with this idea.” She shot a quick look at me. “Why didn't I think of that?”

I laughed, navigating through the pages of the website. Their UI was impressive, but their UX…not so much.

After filling in my card details, I clicked Pay Now and waited for confirmation. A few seconds later, an error message popped up: Transaction failed .

Deep creases formed between my brows as I squinted, confused. “That's weird.”

“What happened?” She looked in my direction for a fleeting moment before returning to face the road.

“The transaction failed,” I replied, inputting my details a second time.

“Yeah, it happens—could be a glitch. Try again,” she suggested, taking a gentle turn down another street.

“I'm on it,” I said, punching in the requirements.

Again, the same message appeared.

My face contorted into a frown, and I felt a pang of irritation and embarrassment. “You gotta be kidding me,” I whispered, going for the third attempt.

Same thing.

This had never happened to me before, and the fact that it was happening now, of all times, infuriated me.

“My stupid card keeps declining.” I tossed the phone onto the dashboard, my head bowing in frustration, and rubbed my temple.

“Okay, relax, feisty pants,” she said, her voice sharp and alarming, spooked by my reaction. “Checked your bank balance yet?” She looked at me.

“Why?” I pushed my head back, shocked by the question.

I'd never had any reason to—Dad always sent my pocket money by this time of the month. Always.

“Maybe you don't have enough funds,” she suggested, returning her eyes to the road.

Her assumption was harmless, but it didn't stop me from feeling a little insulted. My eyes narrowed, hating that she'd even insinuate something like that.

“That's impossible.” I massaged my forehead. “I should have more than enough.” I grabbed the phone from the dashboard and logged into my mobile banking app.

My breath hitched in my throat, eyes widening in disbelief as I stared at my balance: $30.54. “Are you kidding me?!” I exclaimed, my voice shaking with outrage.

Frantically, I refreshed the page. Maybe it was some sort of glitch in the system or something. But it didn't matter how many times I refreshed; the numbers remained the same, taunting me.

Thirty dollars and fifty-four cents. This was the amount in my bank account the last time I went shopping three days ago. This only meant that my monthly allowance hadn't come in yet.

“I'm calling my dad,” I whispered to myself, dialing his number.

I felt like an entitled brat waiting for her father to pick up the phone so she'd lash out at him for forgetting to send in her monthly allowance. I could hear it ringing on the other end, my heart racing with anticipation and annoyance. Pick up, pick up, pick up .

Finally, he did. But there was something glaringly off about his voice—something cold. “Hey, kiddo.”

I could sense the unease in his tone, and my anger melted immediately, my heart skipping a beat. “Hi, Dad.” I lowered my voice, pinching the bridge of my nose.

“You're calling regarding your monthly allowance, aren't you?” He paused for a moment, his sigh amplifying my concern. “I'm sorry, sweetheart, but you're not gonna be getting your usual pocket money.”

My heart sank into my chest.

This was new—new and scary.

My father was Oscar Campbell, one the most successful businessmen in the city of Chicago, a man revered and respected by many. Why wouldn't I receive my usual pocket money anymore? What exactly was going on?

My breath lodged in my throat as I thought of a possibility. A few weeks ago, I’d overheard Dad discussing with his wife—my stepmom, Darcy—about how the company was facing some corruption challenges.

He'd said something about the situation escalating if not properly addressed.

“Where are you?” he asked, his flat voice coming through the phone clasped to my ear.

“Uh, I'm headed out with Ravyn,” I said, struggling to swallow hard against the sudden dryness in my throat.

“I need you to come home immediately,” he added, his tone dripping with the type of urgency that inflicted me with fear. “There’s something important that I need to discuss with you.”

This can't be good .

The call ended, and I was overwhelmed with anxiety, my chest rising and falling as I tried to maintain composure. My mind was racing with different scenarios playing in my head as I wondered what was happening.

My dad wasn't one to panic, and now that he was—even though he tried to hide it—it meant that whatever was going on was worse than I thought.

“Ravyn, turn the car around,” I said, looking at her, my heart pounding in my chest. “Take me home.”

“Everything alright?” Her eyes squinted, worry and curiosity etched on her gaze.

I hesitated for a moment, trying to collect my thoughts, but my anxiety threatened to consume me. “I hope so,” came my reply, my voice barely above a whisper.