2

Molly's POV

The dizziness hit hard, and I nearly went down. I pulled in a breath and looked at Joyce, miserable. "Joyce, why?"

I pointed at the woman beside him. "Is it because of her?"

Her hand was hooked through his arm, the two of them close in a way that left no room for doubt. Honey-blonde waves, careful makeup, clothes I couldn't name the brand of but could tell at a glance cost a fortune. Her nails were painted sapphire blue, every finger catching the light.

"Is that even a question?" Joyce spread his hands, unbothered. "This is my girlfriend, Kelly."

"You—" Something had lodged in my throat. "You betrayed me!"

Joyce burst out laughing. "Betrayed you? What does that even mean? Molly, the moment your family went bankrupt, you and I were finished. Understand?"

Kelly tightened her grip on his arm and gave me a look that was pure challenge, her voice syrupy. "Darling, why bother explaining anything to her?"

Joyce laughed again, letting his eyes travel over me from head to foot. "Honestly, I figured you'd be too ashamed to show your face. But since you're here, let me make it clear."

"You're not good enough for me now. You're worth nothing. So we're done. Get it?"

The words landed on my face harder than White's slap had. I thought of two years ago — three months he'd spent courting me. Flowers. Letters. Him on his knees in our garden, confessing. Both families had been delighted with the engagement: two wealthy houses joined, the future bright.

Ungrateful dog. Had he forgotten how he used to come begging me for one resource after another?

Kelly tipped her face up against his chest, and he bent and kissed her on the mouth.

It was a long kiss. His hand rested at her waist, the two of them shameless.

She lifted her head from his arms and looked at me the way you'd look at something on the ground. "Joyce, let's go home."

"Of course, Kelly." He turned to the security guard. "Get her out of here. Her poverty is fouling my driveway."

Kelly glanced at me as she passed. There was a strange glitter of excitement in her eyes.

"Your family went bankrupt, right?" she said, at a volume carefully pitched so I'd hear every word. "You must be desperate for money now."

Her laugh was shrill, her eyes full of contempt, and she fished a wad of bills out of her purse and threw them in my face.

The notes fanned out, grazed my cheekbone, and drifted down across the ground.

Joyce roared with laughter and tossed a wad of his own at me. "Weren't you always the untouchable one? I refuse to believe poverty can't bring you to your knees."

My fists clenched. The humiliation came up in a wave.

My nails dug into my palms. It hurt — genuinely hurt — but not as much as the heat burning across my face.

The Joyce family owed its present glory to doing business with mine. For years my father had dragged his father through project after project, through contracts, calling him "brother" over every dinner table. Then we went bankrupt, and this family swapped faces cleanly, neatly, without so much as a transition.

I lowered my eyes to the money on the ground.

Hundreds. Fifties. Twenties. Scattered everywhere. It wasn't a small amount. It was, in fact, a considerable sum — enough to plug the most lethal hole in my life right now.

I closed my eyes. I hesitated for exactly one second.

Then I crouched down and picked it up, bill by bill.

My knees pressed against the paving stone. Cold. I could hear laughter above me. I didn't look up.

Pick it up and go, pick it up and go, I chanted silently.

On the last bill, a heel came down on my hand.

The stiletto landed square on my fingers, and the pain shot through my whole hand.

Kelly laughed, not a trace of remorse in it. "Sorry, I didn't see your hand there."

I raised my head and looked at her.

She looked down at me, the glitter on her lashes flashing under the light. I pulled the last bill out from under her shoe — slowly.

When I had the last one, I pushed myself up off the ground, clutching the money tight. Every note of it had a use.

"Molly, look at you," Joyce sneered. "Fallen this far, and you'll still stoop for pocket change."

I didn't answer him. I walked on.

Behind me, Joyce's voice rose, irritated: "Molly, you've lost everything — what are you still acting high and mighty for? You'll be on your knees begging me yet!"

Today was the first time. There would be no next. I swore it silently.

I didn't go back to school. I got straight into the car.

Halfway there, my phone rang. The hospital.

They were chasing the medical bills.

I said I'd be right there.

After I paid, the doctor called me into his office alone. His voice was heavy. "Marcia's organ failure is the result of poisoning. If we continue treatment, the cost is extremely high — at minimum four thousand dollars a day. If other organs are damaged down the line, that number will keep climbing."

Four thousand a day.

The room went dark at the edges. The figure was enough to knock me flat.

I stared at the floor. My father's debts pressed down on one side; Marcia's treatment pressed down on the other.

Once upon a time, what was four thousand dollars? A pair of shoes. A meal. A number I signed without looking.

Now it could crush me to death.

But Marcia was my mother. My only family left in this world.

I thought about it for one second, then lifted my head, my voice steady. "I want to continue treatment. I've already paid for today. Please don't stop."

The doctor looked at me, nodded, and left.

I went in and looked at Marcia.

She was asleep. Her face had shrunk by a size. A needle was taped to the back of her hand, the veins standing out one by one. A thin film of mist moved in and out inside the oxygen mask with each breath.

I didn't dare stay long.

Outside, I crouched beside a chair in the corridor, and crouched there until I was crying. Thinking of how she'd looked, something in my chest felt like it was being squeezed.

Tears soaked my whole face. I didn't dare cry loudly. This was a hospital, after all.

"Hey!" A voice came from above me.

I looked up. It was Beth.

Beth had come at exactly the right moment.

She dug an envelope out of her bag and pushed it at me. "This is all the allowance I've saved. I hope it helps."

On paper, Beth and I weren't even friends. We were rivals.

Our families did business together, and from childhood we'd been set side by side and compared. Grades. Clothes. Which of us was more presentable. Beth was my sworn enemy. We'd disliked each other for over a decade.

Now I needed money more than anything, and she'd simply handed it over.

Thinking of Luna pretending not to see me, of Joyce's humiliation, this money from Beth set my whole chest burning.

I threw my arms around her. "Thank you."

Beth staggered back half a step from the hug, then patted my back gently. "You know my family keeps a tight leash. This is all the monthly allowance I get. It's as much as I can do."

"Beth, can you help me find a high-paying job? Anything at all."

Beth waved a hand. "The only high-paying jobs I know about are in the nightclubs. That place is no good. It's a mess."

I covered my face, desperate. "But I really have no other way. If I can't pay off the debt, I'll be sold off anyway..."

"Then I might as well sell myself from the start. At least that's better than being forced by White. He won't let me go, and I'd only end up worse off."

I couldn't help the despair talking. The pressure was too much.

"How can you think like that?" Beth grabbed my hand. "You can't let money drag you down. You were so brilliant. How can you throw your whole life away over something like this?"

"Tell you what — I'll give you an idea. If it works, at least the medical bills are covered."

I wiped my tears. "What idea?"

"I heard there's a vampire professor at our school. Harrison Raphael. He's obscenely rich — his watch is worth millions, and we've never once seen him wear the same one twice. Take your blood panel to him. If he likes it, you'll definitely get a decent blood fee."

I ran the numbers in my head.

If I could supply him blood long-term, Marcia's medical bills would be settled. As for the debts my father left behind, I'd find another way. One thing at a time.

That same day I paid for a blood test.

I knew how absurd the whole vampire thing sounded. But I had no other option. I was going to sell something either way — blood or body, what was the difference.

The report came out on a thin sheet of paper. I held it and took the car to school.

Following the floor and room number Beth had given me, I stood outside the office door.

The corridor was quiet. The window at the far end was open, and the wind lifted a corner of the curtain. I spent a long time working myself up to it — treat it as a transaction. I supply the goods, he pays. Nobody owes anybody anything. — I was just raising my hand to knock when the door opened.

A tall, handsome man stood in front of me.

I froze. The face was far too familiar, and I recognized him at once.

It was the man who had pulled me out of White's grasp today.

His tone was cold. "You were looking for me?"

I swallowed.

Sunlight slanted in through the window behind him and fell across his shoulder.

So vampires these days were this advanced? They could just stand in the sun?

I took a deep breath and gathered every bit of courage I had into one push, offering the blood report with both hands. "Professor Raphael, this is my blood panel. If you have any use for it — would you consider me?"

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