My North Star Rising

ank, the sun blinding.

eport. The

diner

choed, shar

s carefully crafted poverty. The cheap, wilting flowers he' d occasionally bring. His constant r

sick, twisted game.

eposited. My sacrifi

iner. The smell of grease, usuall

ering friend, was perched on a st

ur little Cinderella, back

made my

l fake concern. "Mia, hone

hen at Ethan. The n

risingly steady. "You seem to

a check for $50,000. The exact amount I'd just deposited. The m

Compensation." I slid it

s jaw

e you doing? Are you insane? That's ou

d for th

pocket, where his pho

n. I heard everything. About the Porsc

ent from r