Chapter 4

I locked my phone and ignored Camila. As if she'd be that kind. Besides, all her money came from James, the creep. It felt dirty to me.

Camila spammed a bunch of photos of designer watches and bags. "Look, any one of these is worth more than your life. Mom hasn't even married James yet, and he's already this good to me. He buys me everything. Are you jealous? Too bad. You had your chance, yet you couldn't even choose the best."

An idiot reborn would still be an idiot. Camila didn't realize the only reason she was still living it up now was that James and Mom hadn't yet finalized their marriage. He didn't have her locked down yet.

In my past life, he'd walked into my bedroom the night he and Mom registered their marriage.

Before heading out, I knocked on the door of the restroom stall beside mine. "Dad, I'm going out. I paid the breakfast shop owner—don't forget to go eat."

"…Got it," he rasped.

At the burger joint, the owner looked me over, unhappy with how worn out I looked. "Selena, is something going on at home?"

I quickly denied it. "No. The semester is starting soon, and I'm nervous about enrolling. I didn't sleep well."

Plenty of kids worked over the summer to cover tuition. She nodded. "Stress is normal when you're young. I'll let it slide today, but you need to be in better shape tomorrow."

I exhaled in relief and continued wiping tables.

I didn't want to beg Camila for help or drag Daniel into this. Earning my own money was hard, but at least it kept my conscience clean. I just needed to find a new place fast, or survival would become an issue.

…

That night, after my shift at the convenience store, the manager handed me the day's leftover bread that was about to expire. "This is nearly out of date, and nobody's going to buy it at this hour. Take it home."

I took it gratefully, thinking that at least Dad and I had dinner settled. My stomach had been hurting more and more—maybe eating something would help.

I'd barely torn open the plastic when the store door slammed open. Camila charged in and pointed excitedly at the bread in my hands. "I'm buying that!"

I frowned. "How'd you find me? And you don't even like bread."

She stuck her nose in the air, smiling meanly. "I asked the lady at the burger joint. I may not like bread, but I can buy it to feed the dogs. But if you beg me, I'll let you eat it."

The manager looked torn, but a customer's request was the priority. He had no choice but to sell the bread to Camila.

She crushed the bread under her heels right in front of me, tossed the mess into the trash, and strutted out.

I had no choice but to pay for the cheapest sandwich.

Back at the subway station, I found that the restroom Dad and I had slept in last night was already taken.

He kept his head down, trying to hide the bruises from the fight over the restroom stalls. "Selena, it's okay. I've found us a new place. It's just a little cramped."

He led me past a few blocks and down into a storm drain entrance. The spots that didn't smell as bad were already occupied, so we kept going deeper.

"This… isn't too bad," I said, forcing down the nausea. "At least it's warm."

Dad rubbed his hands, embarrassed. He wanted to comfort me, but his stomach growled before he could speak.

I handed him the tiny sandwich. "You eat it. I already ate—I'm not hungry."

His eyes lit up. He grabbed it and devoured it.

That night, we huddled together for warmth with nothing but a few sheets of newspaper under us. I wanted to sleep, but my stomach hurt so much I couldn't.

In the second half of the night, the pain got unbearable. I struggled up to get some air. But the second I stood, a wave of dizziness made my vision go black.

My throat tickled; I started coughing violently. Warm liquid sprayed into my palm.

"Selena?" Dad jolted awake and sat up in a panic. "What's wrong?"

"I'm fine…" I didn't finish before another mouthful of blood came up.

In the moonlight, Dad saw the blood in my hand and went chalk white. "Blood… You're coughing blood!"

He scooped me into his arms, sounding terrified as he sprinted out of the drain toward the hospital. "I'm here, so don't be afraid. I'll sell my blood or a kidney to get you treated! I can't let anything happen to you!"

He cried, his arms shaking around me. It seemed he finally realized that if I died, he would truly have nothing left.