CHAPTER ONE: TRASH GIRL

"You smell like old dishwater, Maya."

Carmen’s voice hit me like a slap—sharp, loud, and filled with disgust. I didn’t even have to look up. I could already hear her two annoying friends who follow her wherever she goes, Marisol and Bianca, giggling behind her.

I stood at the sink, scrubbing a plate that wouldn’t come clean no matter how hard I tried. Ten hours of washing dishes at the diner, and now I had to come home to this.

“Maybe if you didn’t stink so bad, someone would actually talk to you,” Marisol said, snapping a towel at my leg.

I flinched, but I kept scrubbing. Just keep my head down. Just breathe.

“God, look at her,” Bianca added, chewing her gum like a cow. “She’s still wearing that same old, torn shirt. Washed it in the toilet or what?”

Their laughter rang out behind me like nails being scraped against glass. I clenched my jaw and tried not to cry. Crying only made it worse.

“She probably thinks Javier likes her,” Carmen said, leaning against the counter. Her perfume was so strong it made my head hurt. “He talks to her out of pity, that’s all. Isn’t that right, Maya? You think he’s in love with your poor, dishwater ass?”

I dropped the plate into the drying rack a little harder than I meant to. My hands were red and raw. My arms felt very weak. My heart was worse.

“I don’t need your pity,” I said, turning around to face them.

Carmen raised an eyebrow. “Oh? She speaks now.”

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Bet she cries herself to sleep every night, hugging that ugly shirt.”

“I said,” Carmen stepped closer, her lips curling into a cruel smile, “why don’t you go cry to Mama again? Oh, wait… she’s too busy coughing her lungs out to care.”

My stomach hurt.

“Say that again,” I whispered, my voice shaking.

“I said—”

“Carmen!” My mom’s voice came from her room—weak, rough, but still able to stop them from fighting. “Leave your sister alone!”

Carmen made an annoyed sound. “Ugh. She’s awake.”

“I mean it!” Mama shouted trying to hold her cough. “Maya does more in a day than the three of you in a damn week!”

The girls scoffed and walked off, whispering something about how I was “Mama’s little slave.”

As soon as they were gone, the silence wrapped around me like cold water. I stayed still for a second, heart pounding, then walked down the hallway toward my mom’s room. The air smelled like old medicine and mint rub.

She was lying in bed, looking smaller than usual. Her chest rose and fell too fast.

I knelt beside her and grabbed her hand. It felt like holding ice.

“Are you okay?” I asked softly.

Her eyes opened slowly. “I heard them. Don’t listen to those girls. They’re lost.”

I tried to smile. “I don’t care what they say.”

But I did.

And she knew it.

I sat with her until she fell asleep again, then checked her pill bottles. Almost empty. Again. The good medicine was too expensive. The cheaper stuff wasn’t doing anything.

I sat alone in the kitchen, staring at the peeling paint on the walls. My stomach growled, but I ignored it. The bills were late. Rent was close. Medicine was low. Hope? That was almost gone just a little left.

The front door creaked open.

I turned my head just as Javier stepped in, holding two plastic containers. He wore his usual grease-stained jeans and that old Marlins cap.

“Got you dinner,” he said with a smile.

I blinked. “You didn’t have to.”

“You didn’t eat lunch again, did you?”

I didn’t answer. He already knew the truth.

He placed a container in front of me. Rice, beans, a little meat. Warm.

“Thanks, Javi,” I said, quietly.

He shrugged like it was no big deal. But it was actually. Atleast to me.

We sat at the table, eating in silence for a while.

“How’s your mom?” he asked eventually.

“She’s not getting better,” I said. “She needs the real medicine. Stronger. I’m trying, but…”

Javier leaned back in his chair, eyes on the ceiling. “I might know a guy. Someone who helps people when they’re in a big mess.”

“No.” I shook my head. “No deals. No favors. Not like that.”

“He owes me. It wouldn’t be shady—”

“Javi. Please.”

He didn’t argue. He never did.

After he left, I lay down on the old couch in the living room. I wrapped myself in a thin blanket and stared at the cracked ceiling. Thunder rolled in the distance. The rain had started again.

My phone buzzed.

A message from my boss at the diner.

“Emergency. Clean Club Rosario. Extra cash. Midnight.”

Midnight?

I looked at the time. 11:32 p.m.

My body said no. My wallet screamed yes.

I grabbed my hoodie and slipped out quietly, walking fast through the rain. Miami nights were loud—cars, music, parties—but the streets near Club Rosario were different. Quiet. Wrong.

I reached the back door and stepped inside.

The hallway was dim, the lights flickering. It smelled like sweat and bleach. The music upstairs pounded like a heartbeat.

I grabbed a mop and got to work. The floor was sticky with old drinks. My arms ached with every push of the handle.

BANG.

A gunshot.

I froze. The mop slipped from my hands.

Footsteps upstairs. Voices. Then—nothing.

My legs wouldn’t move. I hid behind a metal shelf, heart pounding so loud I could barely hear the bass from the club above.

Then I heard it.

A groan. Faint. Pained.

I peeked around the shelf.

Down the hall, by a stack of crates, a man was lying on the ground. His shirt was soaked in blood.

Shot.

Oh my God.

I should’ve run. Should’ve screamed.

But I didn’t.

I ran to him.

“Hey,” I whispered, kneeling beside him. “Stay with me.”

He opened his eyes. Dark. Weak.

“You’re gonna be okay,” I said, pressing my hands against his wound. My fingers turned red.

“Don’t… call anyone,” he muttered.

“I have to. You’ll die.”

I pulled out my phone, my hands shaking as I dialed 911.

When the ambulance came, I told them he was my cousin. It was the only way they let me stay.

At the hospital, he passed out. They said he needed blood. Mine matched. I gave it.

I sat there all night, dozing in a plastic chair, my head foggy, my arms heavy.

When I woke up… he was gone.

No name. No thank you. Nothing.

I spent my last dollars trying to save a stranger.

And I had no idea—

That stranger was going to destroy my whole life.