MAFIA EMBRACE

AR

rious part-time odd jobs, a day that left me bones tired and longing for the thin mattress in my cramped room. But i

layer of makeup on their faces and non-existent clothing ,while clusters of smokers huddled in shadowy corners of buildings-the gl

led-a slurred voice, scornful.

g my coat around my body

another voice crooned. "

ly, I reached the familiar apartment building-crumbly and decaying-and let out a breath of relief. I heard

d by his usual entourage. Cigarette smoke coiled lazily in the air, mingling with the sour smell

g too long. "Siara, darling," he drawled, his grin revea

essing into a thin line a

lled out, chuckling. "You should at le

her alone," he muttered, though his tone lacked any r

ir laughter. I knelt quickly, tugging up the loose floorboard where I kept my

mp

been. Panic clawed my chest as I rummaged through the box, as if magical

t was gone, all of it. Months of painful savings, sac

he now-empty shoebox in my hands. "Where is it?"

at me. "What are yo

the box out. "The money I saved

ed. "What's the fuss, Titus? Girl can

smoke, his face bored.

. "What do you mean, gone? Do you

d simply, taking anot

the bottles and ashtrays. "You mean

ice at me," he snarl

tment!" I screamed, my eyes bu

he yelled, slamming his bottle down on the ta

cracking. "She's still fighting, and I'

ink I don't know she's gone because of me?And that fucking asshole" he snarled, his v

empty shoebox like it was my lifeline.

had time to duck as the bottle smashed behind me on the wall, sending glass s

ng on me. "You're just like her. Cling

ing, but I caught myself, glaring at him through my tears. The flurry of hits ca

e gonna kill her if you're not careful. And I ain't h

of his hand, then grabbed his jacket from the couch. "She's not worth it," h

the door. One, however, seemed to dawdle. His gaze roamed over me; a

ted. "She's no

behind them, leaving t

vision blurred with tears. I struggled to breathe, every m

ey'd left behind. The coffee table was littered

with white powder-the stuff used to cut lines. I picked it up, turning it over in

pocket. It was likely nothing, but

me, and sank down onto my thin mattress. I swallowed a

hile my chest heaved with silent sobs. The weight of hop

start. Without it, there were no second ch

eathing catching. For what felt like the

millionth time, I was utt