"Mom, I fucking told you to stop sleeping around with men for money," Mira shouted, voice sharp and unforgiving as the front door creaked open. She flicked on the light, the yellow glow flooding the room just in time to catch her mother sneaking in like a thief.
Gods help her, it was already this late—where the hell else could Sydney have gone, if not her usual rounds doing God knows what? Her mother flinched—shook or jumped, whatever—clearly startled that her plan to slip in unnoticed had failed. Mira caught her. Dead in the act.
But Sydney, ever unbothered, tried to recover quickly, waving it off with a breathless chuckle. "Not exactly that," she said, brushing past her daughter with a forced calm. "But if everything goes well, I'll actually be landing a decent job soon. Then we'll be able to afford your term's school fees so you can finally go back."
Mira's heart twisted at the idea. Of course she wanted to go back. Desperately. But she wasn't stupid either.
She eyed her mother with pure disbelief. "I just hope this so-called plan you're talking about doesn't still involve you selling your body," she muttered, standing up, voice low and laced with fatigue. Her chest ached. She couldn't pretend this was normal anymore. Her mother selling herself just so she could chase a future? Fuck no.
Sydney rolled her eyes, as usual.
Changing the subject, she asked for something to eat.
Mira's lips pressed into a thin line. "I haven't cooked. Obviously," she said flatly. "There's no money for ingredients. I'm starving myself."
Sydney frowned. "Damn. I forgot."
Then she reached into her worn-out purse and dug out a few crumpled bills. "Call Chris to go get something. Whatever this can manage."
"I haven't seen Chris all day," Mira said, brows pulling together. "Actually, I was going to ask you if you've seen him. I was getting worried."
Her mother's face shifted. "I've got no clue where that boy is," she muttered, clearly irritated. "God help me with that son of mine. I just hope he's not out there causing trouble again."
Mira rolled her eyes right back at her. "Uh huh, Mum. I'm sure he just went out to escape this hell of a house. Trust him for once—"
But she didn't finish.
Because the knock that followed—
It wasn't just a knock.
It was violent. Loud. Bone-shaking. The kind of knock that carried hostility, not curiosity. Whoever was outside wasn't Chris. Hell, it wasn't anyone they knew. They never had guests.
"I'll get it," Sydney said quickly, already moving because Mira was curled up deeper in the room, far from the door.
"Uh huh," Mira murmured, not paying much attention at first.
Until she heard the click of the door unlocking.
Then came her mother's voice. Sharp. Terrified.
"Oh no!!"