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“I love it.”

My fingers skim the tattered brown couch, taking in the scratchy, worn-out fabric. There are holes, more than I can count, but the stuffing pushing through looks soft. Inviting, even, and would be a much better place to crash than the back seat of my car.

I draw in a deep breath, the kind that feels like my first in years. The relief is so overwhelming, it almost doesn’t feel real.

I can’t believe this is happening.

Smiling to myself, I take in the shoebox-sized apartment. The walls might be scuffed, the window paint is peeling, and there’s this funky smell coming from the fast-food place downstairs, but none of that matters. What matters is this place is perfect and it’s mine.

Finally, I won’t have to sleep in my car anymore. I’ll have somewhere to come back to. Somewhere Adley can come back to.

“Great,” the realtor, Daniel, mutters from the kitchen, not even sparing me a glance. He’s too busy counting the money that took me three months to scrape together.

Every sleepless night, every aching bone is represented in those neat piles of cash.

My pulse pounds and my stomach clenches with something that feels a lot like pride because I did this. I worked my ass off and survived. I made this happen and now I’ve got an apartment of my own.

I haven’t truly been able to call something mine since…

Never mind.

I shut those thoughts down before they can take hold, focusing instead on the man in front of me as his fingers move from one pile of money to the next. Slow and methodical, I’m on edge, waiting for him to finish counting.

Just give me the damn keys already.

When he takes the last stack from the counter, my body buzzes with excitement.

I can’t wait to tell Adley she won’t have to waste another day in that attic while those people keep pretending to care.

She was only eight when we lost our parents and was barely old enough to understand what death meant, let alone survive the weight of it.

I wasn’t there for her. Not the way a big sister should’ve been, at least. I couldn’t be.

“All right,” Daniel says, stuffing the cash back into the scruffy, white envelope.

The guilt rattling my bones silences for the first time. I couldn’t be there for her then, but I can finally make this right.

“Deposit’s good. Now I just need the three months’ rent upfront.”

What?

We stand in silence as I try to hold back any emotion threatening to spill.

“Three months?” My brows crease and my voice is a little shaky, unable to mask the panic clawing up my throat.

He smiles at me with his toothy, slightly menacing grin as he holds his hand out.

I take a couple of steps back, hitting the dried, unwatered plant beside me, feeling just as drained of life.

“But I just gave you three months’ rent. That should be enough.”

Can he tell I’m panicking?

He looks at my chipped pleather bag slumped on the counter next to him, saying everything without saying anything at all.

Is there more money in there?

No. I only had one white envelope that I’d stuff religiously with cash from my waitressing gig. The only other things in there are my ten-year-old phone and a key to my car.

He raises his brow and tilts his head, sizing me up. “I have three months here.” He shows me the envelope, which does nothing to calm my heightened nerves. “That’s to secure the place. We need another three upfront since you don’t have any references.”

My eyes sting, so I shake my head in a vain attempt not to cry.

This can’t be happening. How can that not be enough?

“But that’s not what you said before. You said one month’s rent to secure the place and two months upfront.

” I remember exactly because I built my entire damn life around those numbers.

I had to beg Chloe at the diner to switch shifts with me just to earn enough.

I barely slept for three months straight, busting my ass to make this work because I need this place more than anything.

Adley needs it too and I’m tired of letting her down.

“That’s the thing with places like this. They’re popular, so the only way to guarantee them is with more money upfront.”

More…

I have nothing left, and I can see it in his eyes. He knows it.

“Look, I get it.” His voice drips with fake sympathy, the kind that makes my skin itch, and he waves around the envelope between two fingers like it’s a piece of trash, not my entire goddamn life.

If he really got it like he says, he wouldn’t be doing that. He wouldn’t be treating months of waitressing tips, sleepless nights, and missed meals like pocket change.

“Things are tough for you right now.”

I know what’s coming next. The but. The excuse. The gut punch that will no doubt mean I can’t get this place.

“Unfortunately, there’s no way I can take this apartment off the market without at least six months’ rent from you. It’s just in too high demand.”

“At least?” My eyebrows skyrocket, and my hands shake uncontrollably.

Getting another three months’ worth of rent would involve another three months full-time and could jeopardize my chances of graduating Covey U.

If I lose my scholarship, I’ll have nothing but the beat-up car my dad left behind and the ache in my bones from trying so fucking hard for nothing.

I stare at him, my heart hammering so much I’m worried it will burst out of my chest.

He shrugs, casual as hell. Like he’s not single-handedly crushing me with his words. “Sorry, kid. It’s the way it is.”

My feet itch to run even though I know I can’t. Not without the envelope. Not when any chance of getting Adley back is tucked inside it. I need that money.

Nothing coherent comes out as I try to talk. What else is there to say? I don’t have enough and I don’t have anyone who can lend it to me either.

Daniel strolls over to the kitchen, placing the envelope on the counter before writing something on the back of his business card.

How could that thick wad of cash not be enough to get me this? All that work and nothing to show for it.

Sharp realization cuts through me, quick and brutal. Will it ever be enough? Will I always be chasing an impossible dream? Always clawing for scraps while people like him, like them , take without thinking twice.

“You seem like a good kid,” he says, tossing the card in my direction.

I instinctively catch it in the air, seeing a name and number scribbled across it.

“Luke McCabe,” I read and glance at Daniel in confusion. “Who?”

“I know you just want to get your sister back,” he says like he knows me. Like he’s dissected me down to my ugliest, most desperate pieces. “And this guy can help you. He owns a bar downtown, and a girl as pretty as you would get enough tips to get the additional three months’ rent in no time.”

A girl like me?

I swallow, reading his name again. A bar. I don’t like the sound of it, but I guess I could squeeze in some shifts after the diner closes. It’s not like I have classes then, anyway.

“Thanks,” I mumble just as someone knocks on the door and a young couple enter.

“Hi.” The dark-haired girl smiles brightly. “We’re just here for a tour. Hopefully, the apartment is still available?”

That’s when I know I have no chance. They’re both dressed well, and by well I mean it doesn’t look like they had to buy their clothes in the sale section of Goodwill.

I bet they don’t even know Goodwill has a sale section.

I have no doubt they have the money, and it helps there are two of them. My efforts will never match.

“Of course it is. My name is Daniel. I’m just going to wrap this up and I’ll be right with you.”

Never in my life have I felt more like an inconvenience than right now, and I went through the foster system as a teenager.

I want to wilt into myself because yet again, I don’t feel worthy.

No one wants to help the kid who is so close to adulthood she can do it herself.

What do these people think I’m made of? Do they think I can’t wilt or break like other things?

If I survived my parents dying and living in a group home, I should be able to accomplish anything, right?

Wrong.

I suck in a harsh breath, knowing my chances of securing this place have slipped out of my hands.

When Daniel turns to me, I quickly blink away my tears and jut my chin forward.

He can’t know I’m upset. This isn’t a big deal.

It’s not going to break me. Nothing ever has before, and nothing will now.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Barnett. Give me a call if you manage to figure out your predicament.”

I nod, numb and detached, then motion to the envelope. “I’ll just take that back.”

As I reach for it, he places his hand on top of it, shifting it away. I follow one of the thin white lines on his sharp, navy suit until I reach his face. “Can I take that?” I ask, pointing down.

“How about I keep it?”

“Keep it? W-why would you do that?”

He leans in enough that I know the couple across the room can’t hear. “You don’t want to miss out on another place, do you? This money secures your spot and means you’re first in line.”

“Um, it’s okay. I think I’d rather just have the money.”

“Sorry. No can do.” He snatches the envelope off the table and stuffs it into the internal jacket pocket of his suit. “You’ve made the deposit. It’ll sit with me until we find you the perfect place. One you can afford.”

“Uh, I would really prefer to have it back, please.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? If I give it back, I’ll have to take you off my client list for nonpayment. That goes on your credit record, and good luck finding a place to live with that hanging over you.”

My stomach drops as the reality sinks in. Just like that, any hope of getting it back disappears. There’s no way I’m getting that money. I’m five-foot-three and haven’t had more than one meal a day in years. This guy would be able to snap me in half the minute his hands wrap around my neck.

I’m trapped.

No money. No apartment. Nothing. Daniel is the only realtor who returned my calls in the first place. Without his help and with that kind of strike on my record, I’ve got nothing.

“Of course, if you want to get all of this over with, you could always speak to Luke. I’m sure he’d be willing to help you out.”

“Luke?”

He tips his chin to the card in my hand. “Yup. I give him more favorable rates too. Make sure you tell him I recommended you.”

Is he blackmailing me, or am I reading too much into this?

“Okay,” I whisper, lowering my head as tears well in my eyes. I don’t want Daniel to see the defeat written all over my face. “It was nice meeting you.”

I slip out of the apartment quickly, avoiding eye contact with anyone. I can already feel their judgment. As if I need the reminder that I’m poor.

Once I’m outside, standing next to my beat-up car, I stare at the rusty hunk of metal and let out a bitter laugh.

This is all I have to show for nineteen years on this planet.

A car that barely made it past its last inspection with a gas tank I can’t afford to fill and a scholarship I’m about to lose because I can’t keep up with work and assignments.

Nothing. I have nothing to show.

So much for believing I could claw my way out of the hole life shoved me into and I could beat the system after that truck T-boned my parents’ car.

Naivety at its finest.

Slipping into the car, I rest my hands on the steering wheel, close my eyes, and take a deep breath.

Life would be so much easier if my parents were still alive.

My mind drags me backward. To Halloween nights when Adley and I would run between houses, holding bags heavy with candy.

To movie marathons while the living room was covered in pillows and blankets, and we argued over which cartoon princess was the best. To Thanksgiving with our hands clasped around the table as we rattled off what we were thankful for.

“ I’m thankful I’ve been blessed with one of the best families in the world.”

Those words have played in my head ever since my family was ripped apart six years ago.

My parents were gone in an instant, leaving me and my sister behind.

Adley was snapped up quickly by a foster family because of her age.

Me? I got shipped out of state, all the way to California to the only group home that had space.

No one wanted to deal with a teenager who lost her parents, after all.

I pull out my phone, waiting for the screen to light up, and when it does, it’s hard to read through the cracks splintering across the glass. It’s ancient, a relic I can’t afford to replace, but it still texts and has the most important pictures to me on it.

Savannah: I miss you, love bug.

I stare at the message, wondering if there’s any point in even pushing this with Adley.

Her foster family might not care for her, but she has a roof over her head, and the local prep school accepted her as part of their outreach to underprivileged students.

She’s even got an older foster sister, Briar, who’s been through this for longer.

One who she’s spent more time with than me.

Adley: Miss you too, Care Bear. I can’t wait to see you again soon.

Pain shoots through my fingers as I read the message again.

No. This is the right thing for Adley.

Her foster family only keeps her and Briar around to bankroll their real daughter’s education. They don’t love either of them. They don’t give Adley the attention, the guidance, or the care a teenage girl needs.

I might not be able to offer her a fancy prep school, but I love her more than anyone else on this planet ever will, and that’s got to count for something.

I wipe away the single tear that drops onto my phone screen, sighing when it gets lost in the cracks across it. Then I press the gallery button and scroll through the photos. That’s the main benefit of using my father’s old phone. I have pictures taken from his perspective whenever I need them.

Smiles. That’s all I see. A happy, vibrant family, and my heart aches over the fact there are barely any photos of my father with us. He was always the one to capture the moment and now the moment’s gone. Just like him.

I miss him. I miss them. I want to go back. I want to be happy again.

The tears come hard now, blurring everything, so I toss my phone onto the passenger seat and rest my head against the window. Just for a second. I need to pull it together, figure out where I’m going to park my car and get some sleep tonight.

Reaching for the key, I stuff my hands in my pocket, only to feel the business card from earlier.

Luke McCabe.

The number stares back at me, sharp and silent. A reminder. A possibility. A choice.

Maybe I should call him. It’s not like I have anything to lose anymore, and if I get the money I need for Adley, then maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.