Chapter 1

The alley was dark, and my blood was gushing with the rain into the ditch beside me.

As I clutched my stabbed stomach and leaned against the moldy wall, my white T-shirt now dyed a crimson red, I realized there was no stopping the bleeding.

The stab was deep, and I could feel the knife twisting against my intestines.

Even so, I held on to the black microchip, which held evidence of a drug lord whom my father, Gus James, had hunted for three years.

I went undercover for three years to get my hands on this, flirting with the worst of humanity, and even suffered from cirrhosis from boozing with them.

And now that I got it, I didn't think I was getting away.

I could hear shouts and footsteps of the cartel members outside the alley, searching.

I reached for my phone, my trembling fingers leaving bloody fingerprints, and called the only contact I kept pinned to the top which read 'Father.'

It took a long while until he finally answered, and I immediately heard cheerful voices singing happy birthday, while Nana Smith was laughing.

"What?" Gus' voice was cold and impatient.

Blood was foaming in my throat as I spoke ever so softly, my voice quivering as death loomed. "Father… Help me…"

Silence ensued, but Gus soon burst out laughing. "What is it this time? Are you just playing dead or suicide baiting? You really stop at nothing for money, don't you?"

I was curled up from agony, my gushing tears mixing with the pouring rain as I gasped, "No… I'm on West Street… I really…"

"Give it a rest!" Gus bellowed, cutting me short. "It's Nana's birthday! You don't want to attend it? Fine—stay away! Quit being a jinx! Or what, do you want me to send a patrol car to pick up your gang buddies?! Quit being a bother. Vermin like you dying is simply good riddance anyway."

I then heard Nana asking sweetly, "Who's that, Dad? Come on, let's cut the cake already."

Gus' voice softened right then. "It's no one—just some sales guy. I'll be right there."

Beep, beep, beep…

He hung up, leaving just static beeping.

I stared at the darkened screen, my vision blurring.

So he considered me vermin, and dying was good riddance for him.

That was when the rush of footsteps stopped, and flashlights shone down the alley.

"There she is! She's right there!"

"Kill her! We have to get that chip back!"

With the last ounce of strength I had, I thrusted the microchip deep into my own flesh, between my fingers.

Then, I sent Gus one last text.

[Father, would you finally look at me twice if I end up a corpse?]

There was no answer, and I soon felt steel pipes bludgeoning my body, followed by the audible crunch of bones.