The next three days felt like someone had tilted Jayla’s life, and everything was sliding toward an edge she couldn’t see.
On the surface, nothing had changed.
She still woke before sunrise.
Still pulled on the same worn jeans and threadbare hoodie.
Still walked the same five blocks to the café, keys clenched between her fingers and breath fogging in the early morning air.
But underneath, everything was different.
Her mother’s voice replayed in her head every time she blinked.
They said you could help… Just a little money… Tell her to get us something from the Cross accounts and this all goes away.
And the texts wouldn’t stop.
UNKNOWN:
You have a rich boyfriend. Use him.
UNKNOWN:
First payment due soon. Don’t make us come remind her.
Jayla deleted them as soon as they appeared
