Davina's POV
I forced myself back to work the next day.
Had to.
No time to wallow in heartbreak. I needed money. Needed to keep saving for college. Needed to escape Meridian.
So I did what I always did.
I worked.
I moved through the packed lounge, carrying trays of overpriced liquor, dodging grabby hands, and plastering fake smiles on my face for men who thought cash could buy anything.
"Come on, sweetheart," one slurred, his eyes glazed with arrogance. "Name your price."
My stomach churned.
I wanted to scream. Wanted to dump his drink on his head and tell him I wasn't merchandise.
But I didn't.
Instead, I smiled—tight and rehearsed.
"I only serve drinks, sir."
I turned away before he could respond, heading straight to the bar where Celeste was cleaning glasses.
"You okay?" Celeste asked, studying my face as I let out a sharp breath.
"I'm fine."
Celeste's brow furrowed. "You sure? You look—"
"I'm fine," I cut her off, forcing another smile. "Just beat."
