WHY ME

1: A Hea

Point

y of dirty plates. My belly felt heavy, like I was carrying a big ball inside me. Five months pregnant, and every step

r. Jenkins, barked from behind the counter

from their phones. I poured the water, my hands shaking a little. I was so tired. My shift had started at six in the morning, and it was already past

d rested on my belly for a moment, feeling a tiny kick. It made me smile, even though my heart was

e counter, nearly tripping over a chair. A woman at table four

steam warming my face as I poured. My apron was stained with ketchup and grease, and my hai

ond to catch my breath. My friend Lucy, another w

soft. She was the only one here who

the wall. My shoes felt like they we

y said, popping her gum. "Yo

"If I don't work, I don't eat. An

never felt like home. I didn't know my dad, and my mom died when I was a baby. All I had was me, and now this little one growing inside me. I didn'

t of a movie. His hair was dark, and his face was serious, like he never smiled. He looked around, his eyes scanning the room, and for a

ucy whispered to

everyone else. Up close, he was even more intense. His eyes were dark, like a storm, and

rying to sound cheerful. "Here's your m

is eyes sharp. "Coffee. Black," he said. His voic

tepad even though it was an easy order. I

Hayes,

y name? I turned back slowly, gripping my no

"No, you don't.

is. Not one bit. "What do you mean?

"I know you're in trouble. Debts. Bills. A

s," I snapped. I didn't know this guy, and I didn't like him poki

elp you, Elara. I can make thing

ike a cough. "Help me? I don't e

he table. It was plain white with just a name and a number: *Dante Si

me alone. But something stopped me. The way he looked at me, like he saw right through me, m

nd kept feeling his eyes on me from the corner. When he finally left, he didn't say anything else, j

tric bill, let alone everything else. I pulled out the card from my pocket and stared at it. *D

blocks away, but every step felt like a mile. My belly ached, and my mind wouldn't stop spinning. I didn'

et, except for the hum of the fridge. I put my hand on my belly, feeling another tiny

fter page about a billionaire businessman, one of the richest guys in the country. Pictures of him in fancy suits, shaking hand

e buzzed with a text from an unknown n

ark on 5th Street. Noon. I have a

to delete the message, block the number, forget I ever met him. But deep down, I

Just to see what he wanted. But as I sat there in the dark, a cold f