At Eight, I Paid Off My Birth Debt

Chapter 3 My Family Debt

Back then, there was a fight in our house almost every day.

One afternoon, Grandma caught my mother updating the ledger again. "Chloe, are you really going to keep doing this to that child?"

"I'm teaching her how the real world works! All that talk about love and responsibility you keep putting in her head only makes my life harder! And if all this stress makes me sick one day, should I start adding my medical bills too?"

Whenever they fought, I curled up in the corner and kept my head down. I was always afraid that if I looked up, I would only make my mother angrier.

That Saturday, I slipped out of the house.

Dylan was in the alley like always, hanging around with a few boys his age, smoking and talking.

I walked straight over to him.

He lifted his eyes and looked me over. "Well, look who it is? You need something, kid?"

I took a breath and forced the words out. "Dylan, I want to make money. Can you help me find work? Something like what you do."

He blinked, looked me up and down, and laughed.

"You? How old are you, nine? Ten? Nobody's hiring a kid, gremlin. That's illegal."

I took a quick step closer.

"I can work hard! I'm not afraid of hard work! I'm really fast at collecting cans and bottles! Please, Dylan. I really need to make money!"

He flicked ash off his cigarette and studied me with a little more interest.

"What do you need money for? A new backpack? A game console?"

I shook my head. "I need to pay back money... I owe my mom a lot of money... Two hundred thousand dollars. If I pay it back, she can dance again. And maybe she and Grandma will stop fighting all the time."

The careless grin slowly faded from Dylan's face.

He stared at me for a long time. For so long that I thought he was about to say no.

"Damn." Then he muttered a curse under his breath.

"All right... Tomorrow afternoon. Same place. I'll take you to a place I know. No promises. You're only looking around unless they've got something easy."

I showed up the next afternoon exactly when he told me to.

Dylan drove me to a warehouse on his motorcycle.

A middle-aged man in grimy work pants walked over and looked at me suspiciously. "Whose kid is this?"

Dylan lied without missing a beat. He clapped a hand on my shoulder and said.

"My cousin. She's staying with us over break. Wanted to tag along, maybe make a little pocket money if you've got anything light. She's sharp. She can sort small stuff, push empty carts, whatever. She won't be in the way."

The man frowned and looked me over a few more times before waving one hand.

"Fine. Keep an eye on her. If she gets hurt, that's on you. Half a day. Thirty bucks."

'Thirty dollars!'

My eyes lit up.

That was more than I could make turning in cans and bottles for deposit money in a whole month!

I spent the entire afternoon pushing empty carts back and forth until sweat soaked through my clothes.

When we finished, Dylan handed me three ten-dollar bills. "You want to come back tomorrow?"

"Yes," I said immediately. "I do!"

I tucked the bills carefully into my pocket and almost ran all the way out of the warehouse district.

On the way home, I passed a construction site surrounded by blue metal fencing. I stopped without meaning to and peered through a split in one of the bent panels.

I thought that maybe when I got a little older, I could work somewhere like that. I was sure the money would be better.

Thirty dollars was nowhere near enough. If I wanted to make two hundred thousand, I was going to need a whole lot more thirty-dollar days...

Then a shout cut through the air above me. I looked up without thinking.

"Why is there a kid down there?"

"Move! Get her out of there!"

'Are they talking about me?'

'Move where?'