Chapter 3

I calmly wiped a tray. "Are you ordering? If you're not, stop keeping me from my work."

Camila glanced at the menu with disgust. "I'm not eating this junk food."

She thrust out her wrist to show off a diamond bracelet. "See the life I live now? I'm like a bona fide princess, unlike you. You chose a useless dad who couldn't even hold on to a hundred million dollars."

She kept bragging, but I noticed the bruises on her wrist—they were clearly from shackles.

How pathetic. She'd hunted me down just to preen in front of me, hoping to squeeze a little superiority out of me like it was her painkiller.

"Are you done? If you are, please move." I couldn't be bothered to watch her performance.

Camila's expression darkened. "What's with that attitude? I'll file a complaint and have you fired right now!"

"Dear miss, I'm terribly sorry!" The manager rushed over, shooting me a hard glare. "She's new and doesn't know any better. Allow me to apologize on her behalf. Please don't be upset!"

He shoved me. "Why are you standing there? Apologize!"

I tightened my grip on the cloth. "…I'm sorry."

Only then did Camila let out a satisfied huff and strut off.

The manager snarled, "If you talk back to customers like that again, you're out of here!"

After my shift at the burger joint, I headed to a 24-hour convenience store. I hadn't eaten all day; my stomach ached with hunger. To earn a little more, I joined the unloading crew. The boxes made my arms tremble.

It was past midnight when I finally went home with a crumpled hundred dollars in my fist.

Daniel had already left. He didn't usually live here. I could only rely on myself.

Dad's room light was still on. I heard him anxiously shout, "The money's gone? Didn't you say this would definitely make money? How will I pay for my daughter's tuition if I can't get the money back? A gamble? W-What do I have left to gamble? This rundown old villa is all there is!"

My heart sank. We were done for. Dad must've blown the rest of the money and was now eyeing Cloudside Villa.

He heard my footsteps and yanked the door open to glare at me, reeking of alcohol. "Where the hell were you? Why are you back so late?"

I had no strength to talk. I just wanted to sleep.

Dad noticed the cash in my hand. His eyes lit up, and he lunged for it. "Where'd you get that? Give it to me!"

"No! It's mine!"

"You're my daughter—what's yours is mine!" He snatched the money and shoved me hard.

I slammed into the wall. Pain shot through me, making my vision go black.

"Selena?" Seeing me go pale sobered him a little. He stammered, "Are you… Are you okay?"

I took the opportunity to grab the cash, but he reflexively shielded it. "Consider it a loan to me, alright? Just this once! I can win it back, I swear! Do you have any more? The booze is gone… I want to stock up."

My head spun, and my stomach twisted. "No, I don't!"

He saw the state I was in and waved irritably. "Forget it. Go to bed."

I headed to my room and collapsed into sleep.

…

The next morning, before work, I rushed to open a bank account. My wages were our last fallback. I couldn't let Dad gamble them away.

But things were worse than I thought.

Just a week later, I dragged myself home after a long day to find an eviction notice taped to the door. Dad stood there dazedly with empty beer bottles scattered at his feet.

He saw me and pulled a grin uglier than a cry. "I'm sorry. I couldn't turn it around… I'm useless…"

My stomach and head hurt too much to curse him. I just felt exhausted. I turned to walk away.

"Selena, where are you going?" Dad staggered after me. "To find Daniel?"

I asked in return, "How much do you owe? Tell me the truth."

He mumbled, "A million…"

"The truth!"

"…Three million."

"Three million dollars." My throat was dry. "The debt collectors will tear us apart. And you want to go to Mr. Quigley? Do you want him to help you pay everything off, or do you want to get him beaten to death by the thugs?"

Dad fell silent and trailed me like a scolded child.

I led him into the subway station.

He pinched his nose in disgust. "Selena, why are we here?"

"To sleep." I sighed. "Look around. If we're lucky, we'll find an empty restroom stall."

He stared at me in disbelief. "We're… just gonna sleep here?"

I ignored him and slipped into a stall that was just clean enough. I sat against the wall, careful not to dirty my clothes. I would lose my part-time job if I looked too shabby tomorrow.

Halfway through the night, Dad couldn't stand the cold and shivered as he moved into the stall next to mine.

Later, someone pounded on the doors, shouting for us to get out. In my haze, I heard Dad's stifled sobs from the next stall.

I had no strength to comfort him. My stomach burned; my throat itched. I coughed up blood-tinged spit and forced it down again.

Amid the pain, I fell asleep again.

By morning, my whole body felt broken. I braced against the wall, forced myself up, and fussed with my wrinkled clothes.

My phone buzzed with a message from Camila. "I heard you two got evicted for debt. Poor things. Want me to help?"