From Trash To Treasure: Masked Heiress

Red laser sights cut through the darkness, scann

r mind, a sea of Fs that she had carefully curated over the semester. She tossed the ball in

drizzle. It was a deluge that soaked through her thin uniform shirt in seconds

t, a narrow alley lined with dumpsters and old equipment. The smell of wet aspha

pp

sted her thick-rimmed glasses, which were fogging up from the humid

the mud near

ter running toward the drain. Ivy stepped closer, her sneakers squelching

is expensive suit was ruined, the fabric torn and stained. His f

at him. Her face

, they would ask questions. They would want statements. Her name wou

rned h

e step away

and clamped ar

It was a demand. Ivy looked down. The man's hand w

hter. His knuckles were white. Even half-d

of the rain. She crouched down. She press

her head. Thirty percent chance of survival if moved

ed his fingers off h

," she thought.

ural growl of pain behind her. It was the so

ed ten me

e thought of the silence in t

morning. The school would be swarming with cops. They wo

gainst the roof of her m

wung her backpack around and unzipped a hidden compartment a

ollar of his shirt and ripped it open. Button

was swimming, but he saw a girl. S

tate. She pressed it into the pressure point ne

ak. Ivy clamped her

r I finish

e was fl

t was a compound not sold in pharmacies. She sque

ng heat in his gut began to subside. His eyes focused on her face.

e pad from her kit and wrapped it tigh

alley. They were heavy. Purposeful. T

raylon up. He was heavy, de

The door was broken, hanging off one hinge. She pushed h

er hand again. Her skin smel