Kingston's jaw clenched so hard it cracked. He pressed his palm against his knee . "How dare she," he hissed. "She must have a death wish. She called the police on me. Kingston Reid. Me. I will make her regret this for the rest of her life."
Rain lashed the window. Grace sat in the passenger seat, calm as a knife. His face was flat, but his eyes were hard. As if Jujube had personally offended him rather then Kingston.
Jujube's blank face flashed through Kingston's mind and something cold settled under his anger.
"I will handle it, Master," Grace said, voice low. "Calm yourself. Let me do this. I will bring them to you begging."
Kingston stared out at the blurred city. He breathed in slow, rattling pulls, like a man winding himself tighter. "Good," he said at last. "Bring me the girl."
---
Jujube packed in silence. The flat smelled of soup and damp clothes. Rain tapped the window like a slow, patient hand. The two-room apartment above the convenience store felt small and warm compared with the wet street outside.
Abby lay on the sofa with her leg in a cast. She watched Jujube fold, fold, fold with a grin that would not quit. "You really did it," she said, breathless. "You got in."
Jujube nodded as if it were nothing.
"Finally," Abby said, stuffing a pillow behind her, voice bright. "Common folks like me get to see that campus once. My whole life I—" She trailed off, laughing, eyes shining. "At least as a visitor. It's a dream."
Jujube only nodded and kept packing. Her foot was wrapped in white gauze. She moved careful and slow. Her hair was tied up. She wore a turtleneck even though the room felt warm. The bandage showed ugly under the fabric.
A knock at the door. Abby reached for it, then froze. "I'll get it," she started, but Jujube shook her head. Abby sat back down. Jujube stood and walked to the door. She paused, then pushed it open.
Sora filled the doorway. The wool cap was gone. The man who'd looked like a sleepy librarian that morning was gone too. In his place stood a stranger: leather jacket, buzzcut, tattoos tracing up his neck, and a raised white scar that ran along his scalp. Mud caked his boots.
Abby went pale. "Jujube, shut the door," she whispered.
Jujube moved. She shut it. Sora put a shoulder against the frame and pushed it open again.
"Not so fast," he said, voice flat. "Worm." The nickname hit like a slap.
Abby's voice trembled. "Please," she said. "I can't pay this month. My sister—" She looked at her cast, then back at Sora. "I broke my leg."
Sora stepped inside as if he owned the floor. He circled the room slow and sure. He stopped at the table and stared at the pile of books. Mud. Torn pages. The umbrella split, ribs snapped. He picked the umbrella up and let the water drip onto the floor.
He turned and looked at Jujube from head to toe. He saw the bandage on her foot. He said nothing about it. He kept talking to Abby as he moved.
"You been saying that for months now," Sora said. "Maybe this is just easier than paying."
Abby stumbled back. "I will pay next month. I promise."
"How much?" Jujube asked, stepping forward. Her voice was small and flat.
"Three thousand five hundred," Sora said. "Plus interest."
Abby's throat worked. She looked like she might break.
Jujube didn't answer right away. She reached into her bag and took out a small, battered wallet. The bills were folded, softened with use. She counted them with slow fingers and held the stack out.
"Take this," she said.
Sora flipped the notes with one bored hand. He counted quietly. About six hundred. He let the numbers hang in the air.
"This is generous," he said. His mouth twisted. "Not enough."
He looked at her in a way that made the room colder. "You could sacrifice something else," he said, as if offering a favor, as if suggesting a bargain.
Abby snapped up from the sofa. Something fierceness and fear broke free. "Back off," she said. "I will pay. Stay away from her."
Sora smiled slow and false. He took a step forward, the smile not reaching his eyes. Jujube bit her lip hard until it hurt. For the morning she had been the quiet girl in the library. Now the man who held the books and the umbrella felt like a different person entirely.
He turned the ruined umbrella in his hands and let rainwater drip onto the floorboards. He studied the money in his palm and shrugged. "I will come again," he said. then looking at Jujube. "Worm." he nodded as if making sure she knew he had seen her and like a threat that he will be seeing her a lot form now on. Then he left, boots thudding down the stairs.
When the door clicked shut, Abby sank back onto the sofa, breathing fast. Jujube stood very still, the thin line at her mouth gone tight.
Jujube sat beside Abby.
"Don't worry," Jujube said, voice small.
Abby swallowed and laughed a little, breathless. "How can I not worry? You gave him what you had. I don't even know how I'll pay next month, let alone the month before. You don't know Sora like I do...he's the worst. Nobody gets on his good side."
Jujube's fingers tightened around Abby's. "I know."
Abby's smile broke into something softer and scared. "Now he's seen you. You're a target, Ju. I'm scared."
Jujube nodded once.
Abby reached up to touch Jujube's cheek. Jujube flinched before Abby's hand could rest there. Abby didn't pull back; she only smiled, gentle.
"The world's a mean place for people like you, Ju. You know that, right?" Abby said, voice small.
Jujube nodded again. "I am fine." she momentarily pulled her lip into a brief smile.