chapter 1

"Look who is calling back after all these years." The voice on the phone was deep and scary. Mr. Grant.

Freya’s hand shook as she held the phone to her ear. She had run away from this man a long time ago. She had promised herself she would never call him again.

He was a dangerous man from a dark place.But today, she had no choice.

" Mr. Grant," Freya whispered. Her voice was small. "I'm calling to ask for your help”

"Is that so?" Mr. Grant laughed, his voice smug. "I thought you were done with me, Freya. I thought you didn't need my help anymore."

Freya closed her eyes. Her mind went back to how her day started. It was the worst day of her life.

Just a few hours earlier, Freya had stood in the doctor’s office - his face grim as he updated her of her mother's condition.

"We are sorry, Miss Freya," the doctor said. "Your mother’s heart is very weak. She needs a major surgery very soon. If she does not get it, she won't last much longer. She has less than thirty days to live."

It felt like a heavy stone fell on Freya’s chest.

"What do you mean?" Freya asked. Her voice was shaking. "I gave her all the medicine! I worked so hard to buy every drug you told me to. I thought she was getting better, what happened doctor.

The doctor sighed. "I know you tried. I even allowed you to sneak in outside drugs because I knew you were poor. But medicine is not working anymore. Her heart is broken. If we don't do the surgery, she will lose her life."

Freya felt like she was drowning. She had no money. Her father, Ambrose, had died in a car accident three years ago. Her mother, Eugene, had been in a hospital bed ever since. Freya had sold her father’s house. She had dropped out of school. She worked a low-pay job at a pharmacy. She gave every penny to the hospital.

She only had one person to ask for help: her boyfriend, Michael.

Freya had ran into the house. It was loud and smelled like beer. Michael was having a party. The floor was covered in trash and bottles. Freya knew she would have to clean all of it up later. She walked over and turned off the music.

The room had gone quiet. Everyone looked at her.

"Why did you turn off the music?" Michael shouted with rage.

"It’s about my mum, Michael," Freya pleaded. She was crying now. "The doctor said she only has thirty days to live! Please, you have to help me."

Michael looked bored. He did not care. "So? I told you to stop spouting nonsense about your mother to me, It is not my problem. I have important things to do."

"You can't be serious!" Freya screamed. "We have to do something!"

Michael walked up to her and looked into her eyes. "There is no 'we,' Freya. That is your problem. Now, turn the music back on and go back to work."

"Please! I don't know anyone else!" Freya cried.

Michael laughed. "I don't care about your sick mother. Get out of here. You are embarrassing me in front of my friends."

"No," Freya said. "I won't leave."

Then, a girl named Cynthia walked over. She was Michael's friend. She was mean. She held a bowl of brown, round balls.

"I am so sorry about your mum," Cynthia said with a fake smile. "Eat this. It will help you relax. Just trust me."

Freya was so sad and tired that she didn't think because she had been working all day and had not eaten. She took the food and ate it.

Suddenly, the whole room started laughing. loud laughter that made Freya recoil.

"You are so stupid, Freya!" Cynthia laughed in her face. "That was dog food! You just ate dog food! You really are a dog."

Cynthia kissed Michael on the cheek. Michael didn't stop her. He just looked at Freya with cold eyes.

"She is right," Michael said. "You are too much trouble. You are broke and you have no money. I want you to move out. I don't want to be with you anymore. Grow up. I am not your father."

Freya felt her heart break into pieces. She realized Michael never loved her. He only used her to clean his house.

"Fine," Freya said. Her voice was cold now. "I will leave."

Now Freya stood in the dark broken and desperate as she dialled the number of the only other person she loathed more than Michael in that moment - Mr grant.

She remembered why she had run away from Mr. Grant two years ago. She used to dance in his casino where he made her steal from rich men. It was a dangerous life. But now, it was her only choice.

"I am calling because I need your help," Freya said into the phone. "My mother is running out of time. I will do whatever you want."

There was a long silence on the phone. Then, Mr. Grant spoke.

"I think you called at the perfect time," Mr. Grant said. He sounded happy in a scary way. "I have a job that needs to be done. It is a big job. And I think you are the perfect person for it."

Freya held her breath. "What is the job?"

"Come to the casino tonight," Mr. Grant said. "If you do this one thing for me, your mother gets her surgery. But if you fail…