Kayla’s POV
The sound of the phone hitting the floor echoed in the quiet apartment like a gunshot.
My heart didn’t just skip a beat it felt like it shattered completely into dust.
I stood there in the doorway, frozen, my fingers still clutching the strap of my bag as my mother stared at me.
Her face had gone completely pale, drained of all color, her breathing turning shallow and fast.
For a second, I thought she was going to collapse right there.
“Mom…” I said, my voice trembling so hard the word barely came out.
I took a step forward, my legs shaking.
“Mom, please.
Let me explain—”
”Don’t,” she whispered.
Her voice wasn’t angry yet; it was broken, carrying a weight that crushed the air right out of my lungs.
“Don’t you dare call me that right now.”
She looked at me, her eyes gathered with tears that spilled over instantly, falling down her frail cheeks.
The woman who had raised me, the woman who had sacrificed everything just to put food on our table after dad passed away, looked at me like she didn’t even recognize the monster standing in front of her.
“Is it true?” she asked, her voice cracking with a raw, pain.
“Did you… did you actually sell your body to a stranger?
A complete stranger?
Just for me?”
”I didn’t have a choice!” I sobbed, the tears finally breaking free, streaming down my face as I rushed forward and dropped to my knees beside her chair.
I tried to reach for her hand, but she pulled it away sharply, as if my touch was toxic.
“Mom, what was I supposed to do?!
They were going to kick you out!
You had forty-eight hours! Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
I begged, I went everywhere, no one would hire me!
If I didn’t do it, you would be dead right now!
You would be in a morgue!”
”And you think this makes it better?!” she screamed, a sudden, desperate anger tearing through her fragile frame as she clutched at her chest where the surgical scars were still fresh.
“You think I wanted to live like this?! Breathing air paid for, by my daughter trading her dignity, her body, her soul to some rich bastard?! I would rather be dead, Kayla! God, I swear to God, it would have been better if I had died on that hospital bed than to know you destroyed your life so I could live a few more miserable years!”
Those words hit me like a physical blow to me..
“Don’t say that mom!” I sobbed, shaking my head frantically, crawling closer to her knees while she turned her face away from me, refusing to look at my tears.
“Don’t say that, Mom, please.
I couldn’t live without you.
I couldn’t.
I had to do it.
Punish me, hate me, scream at me all you want, but don’t say you wish you were dead…”
”Get out,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a cold, dead quiet that hurt worse than the shouting.
She didn’t look at me.
She just pointed a trembling finger toward the front door.
“Just… get out of my sight, Kayla. I can’t look at you right now. Get out please.”
Sobbing uncontrollably, I stood up to my feet, grabbed my bag off the couch, and left the apartment before I could suffocate from the grief.
I didn’t care where I went.
I just ran down the stairs, and open the front door and left.
Hours passed
I walked the streets of the city until my feet ache and my throat was dry.
The reality of what had happened earlier settled over my like a heavy, suffocating feeling .
My mother hated me.
The secret was out.
The sacrifice I made to save her life had completely blown up in my face, leaving me with nothing..no best friend, no family’s respect, and a life that felt entirely crushed, I was all alone.
But rent didn’t care about my broken heart.
And if I wanted to survive this hell, I needed to fix my life, by starting with a job.
Any job at all.
By afternoon, desperate and running on zero sleep, I found myself walking down the bustling street downtown, applying anywhere I could.
I kept my head down, wiping the remains of dried tears from my cheeks, trying to look presentable even though I felt like a ghost walking among the living.
And then, fate decided to cross my path with the very last person on earth I ever wanted to see again.
I was walking past a Café when a familiar, sharp voice cut through the street noise.
“Well, look who it is. If it isn’t the fucking liar herself.”
I froze.
I slowly turned my head.
Sitting at a coffee table, sipping a coffee with her legs crossed and a smug, wicked smirk plastered across her face, was Sarah.
She was dressed in a stylish crop top and designer shades, looking completely unbothered.
Standing beside her table, I stood there like an idiot, my breath catching in my throat.
Sarah lowered her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose, her eyes scanning my exhausted, tear stained face .
She let out a sharp, mocking scoff.
“Look at you,” Sarah muttered loud enough for everyone at the nearby tables to hear, rolling her eyes hard.
“Walking around looking like a sad little stray dog. What’s wrong, Kayla? Did your precious mama finally find out that her sweet, innocent little virgin daughter is nothing more than a high-priced hooker?”
My blood ran cold, and then, a hot, blinding wave of pure rage rushed through my veins, washing away the sadness and replacing it with pure venom.
“You are a miserable bitch, Sarah,” I snapped,I hardly curse but I was so mad and I didn’t care.
Sarah didn’t even flinch.
She just took a slow sip of her drink, unbothered as hell, before slamming the glass down on the table.
“Oh, spare me the drama, you hypocritical little bitch!” Sarah barked back, her voice dropping all its fake sweetness, turning sharp and venomous.