TORN BETWEEN TWO BROTHERS

Kara’s heart slammed against her ribs as she fumbled with the rusty lock, breath fogging the icy dawn air. Mr. Falco’s boots thudded down the apartment hallway behind her — heavy, determined, like the debt that never stopped hunting them. “Open up, Armani! I know you’re in there!” his hoarse bellow rattled the thin door. “Three months’ rent or three bodies on the street, I don’t care which!” Kara’s fingers slipped on the knob. Come on, come on. Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out the broken pipes dripping overhead. The bolt clicked. She shoved through, nearly colliding with Aria — small, soft Aria in her threadbare sleep shirt, hair tangled and glasses slipping down her nose. “Kara?” Aria squeaked, clutching the doorframe. “What—” “He’s coming,” Kara panted, shoving the door shut behind her. The rickety wood shook as Falco’s fists pounded on the other side. “Landlord wants his rent now. Or we’re out by tonight.” Aria flinched as another bang echoed through the apartment. “It’s not even sunrise—” Bella appeared in the hallway, arms crossed over her chest, short brown hair a messy crown around her sharp face. Her blue eyes flicked to Kara’s flushed cheeks, then the trembling door. “That bastard. Over my dead body,” Bella growled, striding past them. She yanked the door open just enough to wedge her foot in the frame. “Falco! Back off.” Falco’s sour breath seeped through the gap, carrying whiskey and stale sweat. “Or what, Costa? You’ll hit me with your broom? Where’s my money?” Bella shoved the door shut in his face. “Give us a damn minute, you rotting piece of—” “Bella!” Aria squealed, grabbing her arm before the door flew open again. Kara pressed her palm against the door as it rattled, pulse steadying as the danger throbbed on the other side. “We’ll get it. Somehow.” “By tonight, Armani!” Falco spat, boots thumping down the hallway. “Or I’m changing the locks.” Silence swallowed his footsteps. Kara slumped against the peeling wallpaper, breath shuddering out of her. For a moment, all she heard was the soft drip-drip of the leaky sink and Aria’s hiccupped breathing. Aria turned wide brown eyes on her. “What do we do, Kara? I have twenty dollars left. Maybe my school—” “They’re two weeks late with your check. They don’t give a damn,” Kara said, her voice sharp but not cruel. She squeezed Aria’s shoulder, grounding them both. Bella grabbed her old leather jacket off the coat hook, muttering under her breath. “I’ll find him first and bash his skull in. That’s one way to clear the debt.” Kara almost laughed. “Try it, tank, and you’ll be the one locked up — not him.” She pulled away, walking into their so-called living room. It wasn’t much — a battered couch sagged in the middle, covered in blankets that smelled like stale detergent. A crate stacked with chipped mugs served as a coffee table. The only warmth came from the three of them pressed together at night, like puppies in a cardboard box. Family, Kara thought. Not by blood, but better than anything blood ever gave me. She caught her reflection in the tiny cracked mirror by the door — long dark hair stuck to her neck with sweat, striking hazel eyes bright with exhaustion. Plump lips twisted into a smirk she didn’t really feel. She looked exactly like what she was: a girl who’d spent her whole life climbing fences other people never even saw. Aria perched on the couch, pulling a blanket around her shoulders like armor. “Maybe if I asked for an advance again—” “Aria. No,” Kara cut in. “You already pawned your grandmother’s ring to keep the lights on last month.” Aria flinched, looking down at her lap. Kara hated herself for saying it, but it was true. Bella plopped down on the armrest, her big hands drumming her knees. “We could borrow from Luca. He owes me.” Kara snorted. “Luca’s a snake. He’ll want double back. No.” “So what then, Kara?” Bella snapped, voice cracking like dry wood. “You always have a plan.” Kara’s eyes flicked to the cheap calendar on the wall — rent days circled in red, deadlines like bruises that never healed. Her mind flipped through every odd job, every trick she’d used to stretch their money before — none of it would close a three-month hole in one day. Her chest squeezed tight. She remembered cold church pews when she was twelve. A half-empty soup kitchen when she was fifteen. Stealing stale bread from the diner trash just so Bella wouldn’t faint at work. She’d promised herself they’d never go back to that. Not my girls. Not ever again. She opened her mouth — but Aria’s phone pinged on the crate. Aria blinked, reaching for it. “Probably spam,” she murmured, but her fingers froze mid-swipe. Her eyes widened. “What?” Kara asked, heart stuttering. Aria looked up, a spark of fragile hope flickering in her tired eyes. “It’s the community group. Look.” She turned the screen so Kara could see: Hiring: Personal Maid for Finn Mansion. Full-time. Room and board included. Competitive pay. Bella leaned over, snorting. “The Finn Mansion? That marble prison on the hill? Haunted by rich men and ghosts.” “It’s real money,” Aria said, voice trembling with excitement. “Double what we make now. Maybe more.” Kara took the phone, reading the words again and again until they blurred. The Finns were old money, old secrets. Kara had heard the rumors: locked doors, family tragedies, a master no one crossed twice. She bit her lip. “So they want a maid? To wait on a bunch of fancy silver spoons and not talk back?” Aria nudged her side. “You don’t have to talk back. Just do what you do best: work hard, cook like you always do, keep the place spotless.” Bella barked a dry laugh. “And what happens when Kara opens her big mouth and tells them off?” “I can keep it shut,” Kara protested, crossing her arms over her chest. Both Aria and Bella burst out laughing. Kara tried not to smile but failed. “I can! If it keeps us warm and dry and fed? Hell yes.” Aria’s small hands curled around hers. “Kara, you’re our best chance. They won’t hire me — I’d cry the first day. Bella would punch their butler.” “Damn right I would,” Bella muttered. Kara looked at them — Aria’s eyes shining with hope, Bella’s fierce loyalty radiating like a fire at her back. Two orphan girls, just like her. No parents. No backup plan. Just this — this tiny sliver of a shot. She saw herself at twelve, climbing the Orphanage fence barefoot, belly rumbling but head held high. She’d sworn then: One day I’ll take care of my own. I’ll never let anyone cage me again. She took a shaky breath. “Fine. I’ll go. I’ll put on my best skirt, knock on that marble door, and make them see me.” Aria squealed, throwing her arms around her shoulders. Bella grunted but squeezed them both into the hug. Kara felt their warmth seep into her bones like a promise. Through the tangle of limbs, Kara caught her reflection in the dusty mirror again — the long dark hair, the striking eyes, the girl who never stayed down. This time, she thought, gripping her sisters tight. I won't fail.