CHAPTER CONTENT WARNING 💀
Heyyy so just a heads-up — this peek into Olivia's life gets pretty gritty.
If mentions of poverty, crime, or tough situations make you uncomfortable, maybe grab some snacks and skip to the next chapter. Toodles.😁
4:00PM
Olivia's shoes were too small. They pinched her toes as she followed her uncle Marco up the piss-smelling stairwell to apartment 4B.
The door opened to a dim cave. The only light came from the flickering TV, playing a game show to an empty couch.
Selena was already inside, slouched on a threadbare armchair , staring at her phone.
She was thin—all sharp elbows and collarbones—and she reeked of cheap beer and cigarette smoke.
Piercings glinted along her ears, her nose, her eyebrow.
Sixteen going on forty.
"She's your problem tonight," Marco grunted, not looking at Olivia. "Don't let her leave. Don't let her answer the door."
Selena didn't look up. "Where you going?"
"Business." He smoothed his cheap suit jacket. "The Don was impressed. Olivia got close to both the Williams girl and the Fernandez kid today. That's big. That's promotion big."
Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him, leaving the silence to swell like a bruise.
Selena pushed off the couch and stalked to the fridge. She yanked it open.
The smell hit them first. Sour, sweet, rotten.
"Ugh. Hell no " Selena and grimaced, her nose wrinkling ,waving a hand in front of her face.
Olivia climbed onto a creaky chair, swinging her legs slowly. Thump-thump-thump against the metal legs.
"We eating?" she whispered.
"What's it look like?" Selena slammed the fridge. She pulled out a carton of milk, sniffed it, and made a gagging sound. "Expired. Of course."
She rummaged in the cupboard, her movements sharp with frustration. All that came out was a half-empty box of generic brand cereal, the flakes so small they looked like dust.
"We're out," Selena muttered to herself. "Of course we're out."
She slammed a bowl in front of Olivia. Not even a proper bowl—a chipped, plastic one. She poured the cereal in.
Then, instead of milk, she turned on the tap and filled a grimy glass with water, pouring it over the flakes until they floated in a sad, beige soup.
Olivia stared at the sad, floating Os.
Her stomach growled. "Uncle Marco brings meatballs sometimes."
Selena's laugh was short, harsh, like metal scraping concrete. "No meatballs tonight, Liv. Just this sad, ol' cereal. Be grateful it's not the roaches."
She leaned against the counter, lighting a cigarette. The smoke curled in the dim light. "Eat. And eat fast. We got business."
Olivia picked up her spoon. The cereal was already mush. She took a bite. It tasted like wet cardboard and dust.
She ate messily, drops of the watery milk-soup dripping onto her already-stained shirt.
Selena didn't tell her to be careful. She just watched, smoking, her eyes calculating.
The moment the last soggy flake was gone, Selena stubbed out her cigarette. "Jacket on. Let's go."
"Where?"
"To get real food."
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The night outside was cold. It bit through her thin jacket.
Selena moved like a shadow, pulling her little sister into alleyways where the streetlights didn't reach. They waited. She was looking for something. Someone.
Then they saw it. A sleek, silver Toyota. Nice. New. A man was trying to parallel park, his face lit by his dashboard screen.
Selena's grip on Olivia's arm tightened. "Down," she hissed.
Olivia didn't hesitate. She'd done this before. She dropped to the dirty pavement and curled into a small, still ball, right behind the Toyota's rear tire.
The driver, a middle-aged man in a button-down shirt, saw the small figure on the ground too late.
He slammed on the brakes, the car jerking to a stop just inches from her.
The man opened his door, one foot on the ground.
"Oh, sh*t—" He scrambled out, face pale. "Hey—kid? You okay?"
That was Selena's cue. She erupted from the shadows of a nearby alley, her face a mask of furious, maternal horror.
"MY BABY!" she shrieked, her voice raw and trembling. She rushed to Olivia, who stayed perfectly still. "You monster! You hit my little girl! I'm calling the police! I'm calling an ambulance!" She fumbled dramatically with her phone.
The man went pale. "Wait, no! Please! I didn't hit her! I swear, I stopped in time! Look, she's fine!" He gestured wildly at Olivia, who wisely didn't move a muscle.
"She's in shock, you idiot!" Selena yelled, tears now glistening in her eyes. It was an impressive performance. "My baby... the medical bills... we have no insurance..."
The man was sweating now. "Please, don't call the cops. Let's... let's settle this. I'll pay. Just... don't ruin my life."
Selena's crying stopped instantly. She wiped a fake tear away, her expression shifting to cold negotiation. "How much?"
"I—I don't know. A few hundred?"
Selena laughed—a cold, mean sound. "Try forty thousand."
The man's jaw dropped. "Forty thou— are you insane? I don't have that! I can do ten, maybe—"
Selena started dialing. "Hello, police? I'd like to report a hit and run—"
"WAIT!" The man lunged forward, panicked. "Okay, okay! I have a checkbook in the car. Just—just let me get it."
Selena lowered the phone, smirk on her face. "Hurry up."
The man turned, fumbling for his keys. He got into the driver's seat.
And he started the engine.
Selena's smirk vanished. "Oh, you did not."
ln one fluid motion, she pulled a small, sleek pistol with a fat silencer from the waistband of her jeans. She didn't aim at him. She aimed low.
BANG-POP-SSSSSSS
The back tire blew. The car swerved, crashing into a fire hydrant with a sickening crunch.
Before he could even process what happened, Selena was at his window. She didn't bother opening the door. She just pointed the gun at his face through the glass.
"Get out. Slowly."
Trembling, the man complied. The moment he was on the pavement, Selena moved.
It was quick. A brutal knee to his gut, a sharp crack of the gun's grip against his temple. He went down, groaning.
She used zip ties from her pocket to bind his wrists and ankles, then shoved a greasy rag from the gutter into his mouth.
Then she turned to Olivia, who was still lying on the ground, watching with wide, wet eyes.
"Up. Now," Selena commanded, her voice all business. She pressed the cold metal of the gun into Olivia's small, trembling hands.
"You remember what I taught you. Point it at his head. If he so much as twitches, you squeeze. Don't look at his eyes. Look at the spot you want to hit."
Tears streamed silently down Olivia's dirty cheeks, but she nodded. She took the heavy weight of the gun, her tiny fingers barely fitting around the grip.
She pointed it, arms shaking, at the terrified man's forehead.
"Good girl," Selena said, and there was a twisted thread of pride in her voice.
While Olivia stood guard, tears blurring her vision. Selena looted the car.
She took the man's wallet, his credit cards, an envelope of what looked like important documents from the glove box.
Then she hit the jackpot in the backseat: a grocery bag with two family sized bags of Doritos and three cans of soda.
The man made a muffled sound around the rag, pleading with his eyes.
"The... my kids... their snacks..." he tried to garble.
Selena paused, holding up a bag of Cool Ranch. She let out a short, cold laugh that held no joy. "Well, my kid hasn't eaten real food in two days. Your kids'll survive."
She dumped the loot into a waiting cardboard box she'd pulled from a nearby dumpster. "We're eating like queens tonight, Liv. Let's go."
Olivia lowered the gun. Selena snatched it back, grabbed her hand, and they ran. Into the alley. Into the dark. The man's muffled cries faded behind them.
Back in the apartment, they feasted.
Doritos and warm soda. Olivia ate until her fingers were orange. Selena counted the cash from the wallet—three hundred bucks. Not bad.
"We're eating tomorrow," Selena said, almost smiling.
Selena put her to bed on the mattress in the corner. No pillow. Just a scratchy blanket.
"Selena?" Olivia whispered into the dark.
"What?"
"I'm scared of the dark."
Selena snorted. "Tough."
"Can I have a bedtime story?"
That made Selena actually laugh—a real, rough sound. "You ain't a princess, Liv. This ain't a castle."
A pause.
"Look. Princesses get captured. They wait for some prince to save 'em." She leaned down, her face close to Olivia's.
Her piercings glinted. "You're not a princess. You're a queen. Queens save themselves. Remember that."
Olivia blinked up at her. "Are you going out? To the loud place? With the funny drinks and the smelly men?"
Selena's mouth twisted into something that wasn't quite a smile. "Yeah. Gotta go to the bar. Money for this week 's food not that cereal sh*t ,doesn't make itself."
"Lock the door behind me. Don't open it for anyone. Not even Uncle Marco if he sounds drunk. Understood?"
Olivia heard her pull on her boots, spray too much perfume, and slip out the door.
The lock clicked.
Silence.
Olivia stared at the water stain on the ceiling, shaped like a fist.
Somewhere, in a big house with pretty lights, a girl named Juliet was probably sleeping in a soft bed, surrounded by brothers who loved her.
Olivia closed her eyes.