Alex on the run
Alex, get up!”
A sharp slap to the leg.
“You think we’re running a daycare down here?”
Fifteen-year-old Alex scrambled out of her pile of thin blankets on the basement floor, eyes wide, limbs sore. Another day, another list of chores. Cooking. Cleaning. Smiles for those who kicked her. Silence for those who didn’t see her at all.
Upstairs…laughter, Alpha Cole’s family was having breakfast. She could smell the cinnamon.
Down here? Mold. Dust. And the quiet ache of a girl who didn’t know she was born to change the world.