Chapter 1

Jack POV

Stone City comes alive at night like an animal.

During the day it's a place. Cars move people shout prices in the market. Buses make a lot of noise.

When the sun sets, the city's true face shows. The streetlights flicker like eyes. The air gets cold and thin. Shadows stretch across roads and every alley looks like a mouth ready to swallow someone.

I've lived in this city my whole life.

It still doesn't know my name.

I'm twenty-two years old. Old enough to know. Young enough to hope for something different..

Hope costs money in Stone City. You need money for that too.

Tonight my stomach hurts. I haven't eaten since yesterday afternoon. That was just half a loaf of dry bread I found behind a bakery. I told myself I'd look for work today. I walked over the city into shops, warehouses, and small offices.

"Do you have experience?" they asked.

"No."

"Do you have any certificates?"

"No."

"Can you read well?"

I hesitated.

That was enough for them.

The doors closed gently. Some closed loudly. One man laughed.

So here I am.

Hiding behind stacked crates behind a grocery shop near the main road. The owner locks up late. He counts his money before leaving. I've watched him for three nights now. I know his routine better than I know my own face.

I press my back against the wall. My hoodie is thin and torn. One shoe has a hole. My jeans are stained with dust and something darker. I stopped trying to wash them out a long time ago. If I see my reflection in a window I look like someone the city has already chewed up and spat out.

I rub my hands together to keep warm.

" bread " I whisper to myself. "Take bread. Go."

Not money. Not cigarettes. Not anything that will make them chase me harder. Just food.

The shop owner finally steps out. He pulls down the metal shutter with a rattling sound. He locks it tests it twice then walks

I wait.

Stone City doesn't forgive impatience.

When he disappears around the corner I move.

My heart pounds loudly. I slip from behind the crates and crouch near the shutter. There's a gap where the metal doesn't touch the wall. I discovered it yesterday when I pretended to tie my shoelace.

I slide my arm inside.

My fingers touch plastic. A bag. I stretch further, pressing painfully against the metal edge. I feel something inside the bag.

Bread. Maybe two.

"Come on " I mutter.

My nails scrape against the floor. I hook my finger into the nylon. Begin to drag it toward me.

The sound is small.

In Stone City, even small sounds can be loud.

"Hey!"

The voice cuts through the night like a blade.

My body freezes.

I pull my arm out quickly. Grab the bag. My heart jumps into my throat. I. See him. Not the shop owner, but a security guard from the next building. He stands under a light holding a long stick.

"You thief!" he shouts, already running toward me.

I don't think.

I run.

My legs move before my mind does. I clutch the bag of bread to my chest. Sprint down the narrow street. My worn-out shoes slap against the pavement. The cold air burns my lungs. I push harder.

Behind me, I hear him.

"Stop!"

As if I would.

I turn into an alley I know. The ground is uneven. Water from a broken pipe gathers in pools. I jump over one nearly slipping. My breath comes out in bursts.

Why does it have to be like this?

Why does everything feel like war?

I glance back. The guard is slower. He's still coming. He blows a whistle and the sound pierces the night. Lights flicker on in a building.

No.

No, no no.

If more people come out I'm finished.

I dart left, squeezing between two buildings. The bag nearly tears from my grip. I hold it tighter.

"Stop there!" the guard yells again his voice now closer.

I burst out onto another street this time. A car passes, its headlights blinding me for a second. I use that moment. I cross the road without looking. The car honks loudly. I don't stop.

I run until my legs feel like they're breaking.

Finally, I turn into an abandoned compound with a gate. I slip inside. Hide behind a fallen concrete slab. I crouch low, holding my breath.

Footsteps rush past the gate.

Then fade.

The whistle stops.

Silence returns.

Then do I let myself breathe.

My chest. Falls like I've swallowed fire. My hands shake as I clutch the bag. I wait for a few minutes listening carefully. Stone City likes to trick you into thinking you're safe.

When I'm sure no one is coming I sink down fully onto the ground.

I look at the bag in my hands.

Two loaves of bread.

That's what all this was for.

I laugh softly. There's no joy in it.

"Congratulations, Jack " I say under my breath. "You survived another night."

I tear the nylon open. Take a bite. The bread is soft and slightly sweet. For a moment everything else fades. The hunger loosens its grip around my stomach. My body calms.

My mind doesn't.

I lean back against the cracked wall. Stare at the sky. There are many stars but the city lights swallowed them.

I remember when I was younger, maybe twelve or thirteen. I used to stand outside our house and look up at the sky. I believed I'd leave this place one day. I believed I'd wear clothes every morning and carry a bag filled with books. I believed someone would say my name with pride.

Now I steal bread.

My hands are rough and dirty. My nails are broken. My hair has grown uneven because I can't afford a haircut. When I pass people during the day they hold their bags tighter. Some cross the road.

They look at me like I'm already a criminal. I became one.

Is that how it works?

Was I always going to end up here?

I press my head back against the wall. Close my eyes.

"I tried " I whisper. "I tried."

I tried to get a job washing cars. They said I looked too weak.

I tried to carry loads at the market. The older men pushed me aside.

I tried to learn repairs from a mechanic. He asked for payment to train me.

Everything costs something.

I have nothing.

A sudden wave of anger rises inside me. I grip the bread tightly until it nearly crumbles.

Why is it so easy for others?

Why do some boys my age walk around laughing, holding phones, wearing fresh sneakers,

while I count coins and plan which shop is careless enough to leave something outside?

I don't even want luxury. I want a room with a door that locks properly. I want to eat without

running. I want to sleep without listening for footsteps.

Is that too much?

The wind blows softly through the windows of the compound. It carries the sound of music from

a bar somewhere. Laughter follows it.

Stone City celebrates while I hide.

I finish one loaf slowly. Wrap the second one carefully. That one must last until tomorrow.

I stand up. Brush dust off my jeans though it makes no difference. My reflection in a cracked

piece of glass nearby startles me.

My face looks older than twenty-two.

My cheeks are slightly hollow. A small scar runs near my eyebrow from a fight I didn't start but couldn't avoid. My eyes… they look tired. Not the kind of sleep that can be fixed. The kind that comes from fighting every day just to exist.

I pull my hoodie up. Step out of the compound.

The streets are quieter now. Even the guard has given up. I walk slowly this time keeping to the shadows.

I pass by a building with clean windows. Inside, I see a young man, about my age, sitting at a desk laughing with someone. Papers are spread neatly before him.

A fan turns above his head.

For a second I imagine walking in.

"Do you need help?" I would ask.

"Yes," he would say. "We've been waiting for you."

The thought almost makes me smile.

Almost.Instead, I keep walking.

I walk to the one place that feels like home. A building near the railway line that's not finished

yet. It doesn't have doors or windows just walls and a roof that lets in rainwater.

I go inside. Sit in my favorite spot.

This is where I end up when the city doesn't need me anymore.

I take out the loaf of bread and put it next to me gently, like it's really valuable. Then I lie down on the floor using my arm as a pillow.