Chapter 1

"You want me to steal from the Blackwoods!” Ama exclaimed, disbelief coursing through her. It felt like a death sentence.

Mr. Reynolds was a bald-headed man, and his strained face clearly revealed his age.

“Oh, come on, Miss West. You're acting as if you haven't done worse.” Mr. Reynolds replied confidently from behind his large black desk.

“Are you serious? The Blackwoods are one of the most dangerous families in town. I can’t even begin to imagine the consequences if I get caught.”

Mr. Reynolds relaxed in his chair, unfazed, gazing at her with an utterly unemotional expression.

 “Well, it’s not like you’re planning to get caught, Miss West,” he said, tilting his head slightly.

Ama exhaled sharply. 

“I really thought this wouldn't be a big deal for you, considering the other things you've done for me.”

She was appalled that he was using her past jobs against her, especially after he had introduced her to this lifestyle when she was at her lowest and desperately needed some money.

“I still don’t understand what’s in it for you.”

“I don’t recall you questioning my motives when I offered you those other jobs, Miss West.”

He had a point; she had never interrogated Mr. Reynolds about her previous assignments. But this was different. The Blackwoods were not to be trifled with, and the risk was enormous. Yet, the need for money hung over her head.

"This is exactly what the higher-ups demand," he said, pointing upward with certainty.

“So, what’s the pay?” she asked after sometime wanting to weigh the risk against the reward.

“Double your regular pay.”

“No, I want triple,” she stated firmly, crossing her arms and leaning back in the chair.

“What makes you think you’re worth triple, Miss West?”

“The penalty for getting caught is death. That makes it a fair arrangement,” she retorted, glaring at him.

He remained silent, continuing to stare blankly at her.

“Well, good luck finding someone else willing to risk their life and their family’s safety.” She stood up, prepared to leave, but paused at the sound of his voice.

“Triple it is, then.” A small, triumphant smile crept onto her face as she turned back to him.

“Deal,” she said decisively.

***

Ama West jolted awake from the same nightmare she’d been plagued with for the past ten years, ever since she was twelve. She told herself she was used to it, but that was far from reality; the gut-wrenching feeling of dread still clawed at her insides every time the dreams returned. She sat up in the bed she shared with her younger sister, Olivia, who was nowhere in sight.

Ama moved to stand up, but before she could find her footing, the door swung open from outside. 

“Oh, look who finally decided to wake up from her peaceful slumber,” Olivia said, walking toward the clothes rack, already dressed in her school uniform, while trying to put her dark brown hair in a bun.

Olivia has always had full brown curls just like Ama, but she always liked to straighten her hair.

Meanwhile, Ama likes her curly hair that always frames her face; she rarely straightens it.

“You should have woken me up,” Ama replied, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“You looked so peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you,” Olivia shot back sarcastically as she glared at her.

“Don't be a brat. Have you eaten breakfast yet?”

“Nope. I just went to check on Mom, but she wouldn’t open the door,” Olivia said with a shrug.

Ama rolled her eyes; of course, their mother wouldn’t get up for anyone.

“It's fine. I’ll make you something to eat.”

“You don’t have to worry about me. I’ll just grab a bowl of cereal; I think there’s some left in the box from last night.”

Right, they had cereal for dinner again because their mother had squandered the little money they had left to go on a trip with her abusive boyfriend. She had promised them that she would return with a fortune and pay Ama back many times over.

Because the money was Ama's last month's salary from her waitress job at the dinner downtown.

But when they had found their mother on the doorstep three days ago with her duffel bag and tear-stained face, they had both known better than to ask any questions.

“Nonsense! I’m borrowing some eggs from our neighbors and whipping up scrambled eggs and toast for you,” Ama insisted, standing up from the bed.

“You really don’t have to; I’m fine, Ama…”

Ama stepped out the door before Olivia could finish her protest.

***

They sat down to breakfast once Olivia was dressed for school.

“I have my parent-teacher meeting this week,” Olivia broke the silence, forking a piece of egg.

“Just tell me the date and time, and I’ll be there,” Ama replied resolutely.

Olivia let out an exhausted sigh. “Can’t she just pull herself together for her children just this once?”

Ama remained silent, unsure of what to say.

“You know my homeroom teacher is starting to suspect I don’t have a mother because you do everything for me. You pay all my school fees, attend my meetings, and pick me up when I get hurt…”

“I’ll gladly continue doing all those things and more for you,” Ama declared.

“I know you will, and that’s the problem,” Olivia shot back.

Ama paused, searching for the right words.

“You're not supposed to be responsible for me like that, especially since I have a mother who is alive and well,” Olivia continued.

“I understand,” Ama replied firmly, letting out a sigh.

“It’s just not fair that you have to sacrifice your teenage life and youth for me, while my own mother wouldn’t lift a finger to do the same,” Olivia insisted.

“I’m glad to have you, Ama, and I mean it. But sometimes I think that no one is there for you the way you are for me, and it fills me with guilt,” Olivia confessed.

“You don’t need to feel guilty about anything, Liv. This is my choice, and if I had to, I’d give up everything for you without hesitation,” Ama said with conviction.

“I know you would; I just don’t think it’s fair,” Olivia responded, taking her dishes to the kitchen sink.

Ama understood Olivia’s perspective. She had often felt the weight of the responsibilities their mother had placed on her, and it was frustrating. But over time, she had embraced her role and committed to giving Olivia the life she deserved, no matter how challenging it was.

Some people are simply not cut out to be mothers, and their mother was one of them.

“The deadline for the school trip is next week,” Olivia mentioned while washing the dishes.

Shit.

“Don’t tell me you forgot,” she warned, glancing over at Ama while wiping her hands on a kitchen rag.

Ama had indeed forgotten, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She knew how crucial this trip was for Olivia, and she had promised to pay for it since their mother wouldn’t.

“Of course I didn’t forget,” Ama replied confidently.

“Okay. If it’s too much, I can just join next year,” Olivia proposed, a hint of sadness in her voice.

Ama rejected that notion immediately.

“What? No way. I can absolutely handle it! I promised you, remember? I know how much you love art and museums, and I won’t let you miss out,” Ama asserted.

“Thanks, Ama,” Olivia responded, her spirits lifting once more.

Ama smiled knowingly.

“Now, off you go to school!” she commanded, waving her sister out the door.

Olivia rolled her eyes playfully and waved back before stepping outside.

If Ama had entertained any second thoughts about accepting Mr. Reynolds’ job offer, those doubts had vanished. She was reminded of her responsibilities and her unwavering promise

to create a better life for herself and Olivia, far removed from the one their mother had created.

She was fully committed to taking the job.