The city never forgets.
By the time Neetah stepped out the next morning, the sun had no warmth, only a harsh glare that seemed to expose every weakness she carried. Her shoulder still throbbed from the shove, and the memory of Rafe's eyes haunted her every step. Each shadow along the street whispered threats she could almost hear.
Even the market felt different.
Vendors avoided her glance. Customers murmured behind their hands. And somewhere in the corner of the crowded street, she felt it again—the weight of invisible eyes.
"Neetah!"
Madison ran up, panic in her voice. "You need to leave. Now."
"What happened?" Neetah asked, heart thumping.
"They've been asking around. Your name's on everyone's lips. Some people think you've crossed a line, others think you're… special." Madison's eyes narrowed. "Special isn't always good in this city. People talk. And when they talk… trouble follows."
Neetah felt the chill of truth creep in. She had chosen herself. She had said no. But saying no had consequences she hadn't fully counted.
She tried to shrug it off. "I've dealt with worse."
Madison shook her head. "Not like this. Not now."
By noon, the consequences began to appear.
Her usual routes were blocked by men leaning in alleys, lingering just long enough to make her heart race. Her favorite café had a sign: Closed for Private Event—but the owner's eyes avoided her. And at work, small things she relied on to survive—delivery runs, casual shifts, borrowed favors—were now gone. Doors closed. Smiles vanished. The city was slowly closing in.
That evening, she returned home to find a note slipped under her door. No words, only a drawing: a shadowed figure with a knife in hand, watching.
Her chest tightened. Fear coiled in her stomach, hot and choking. The note wasn't direct. It wasn't a threat spelled out. But Neetah understood anyway. She understood the message perfectly: the city—and its people—had started collecting the cost of standing.
Madison appeared at her window before she could even react. "You can't stay here tonight," she said firmly. "It's not safe. Not anymore."
Neetah wanted to argue. She wanted to stay, to prove she wasn't afraid. But the truth was clear. She was afraid. And that fear, sharp and bitter, was a signal she couldn't ignore.
By the time they reached a small, abandoned warehouse tucked behind the industrial part of the city, Neetah felt the weight of every choice she had made pressing down on her. She sank onto the cold floor, exhaustion overwhelming her.
"I don't know if I can keep doing this," she admitted quietly, voice trembling.
Madison placed a hand on her shoulder. "You don't have to do it alone. But understand this… the city will keep testing you. Every choice will come with consequences. Every shadow will want a price."
Neetah swallowed hard. The thought of Rafe, the whispers, the eyes, the note—it all pressed against her chest. Yet, beneath it, she felt a small spark. Not courage, not yet. Just awareness. Understanding.
The cost of standing was not abstract. It was concrete. Pain, fear, isolation, exhaustion—it all came together in a relentless wave. But the wave had not knocked her under yet.
And for now, surviving, for one more night, was enough