Melody's POV
The rent was due.
Actually, it had been due two days ago.
But this morning? The landlord didn't knock. He banged.
I didn't even answer. Just grabbed my backpack, a change of clothes, and slipped out the back door before anyone saw me.
My account was empty. Every dollar I had went into transportation, photocopies, and black coffee. Even my emergency envelope. Gone. I'd used it to pay for a database search on the S.H Group lead.
Worth it? Probably.
But it meant I had nowhere else to go.
So I slept in my car.
The back seat was cramped and smelled faintly of spilled fries. My neck ached. My jeans stuck to my skin. But I couldn't bring myself to text Stella. Not again. Not when I knew she'd hear the shake in my voice.
I just needed one more break. One more lead. Then everything would fall into place.
That was what I kept telling myself.
I splashed water on my face in a fast-food bathroom before driving to meet Marvis. There was a file he said he'd found, one that might explain the connection between the S.H Group and the hospital.
I parked early, just two streets away from the meeting point.
But I didn't get out.
Instead, I leaned back in the driver's seat and closed my eyes. Just for a minute. Just to rest.
Tap tap.
The knock on the window startled me.
I sat upright fast, nearly banging my head.
It was him. Marvis.
Already here. Damn it.
I reached for the door handle, but paused. If I stepped out now, he'd see. See that this car wasn't just transportation it was shelter. My blanket from last night still crumpled in the backseat. My hoodie bundled like a pillow.
No. I couldn't let him see that.
So I waited. Heart pounding.
I stayed still faking the kind of calm I didn't feel until he pulled open the passenger door and slid in beside me.
"Morning," he said, setting the file on his lap.
I forced a smile. "Right on time."
He didn't look suspicious. Didn't ask why I hadn't gotten out to greet him. He just opened the file and started explaining the contents business ties, shell companies, and one name circled in red ink.
But I barely heard a word.
All I could think about was the tension in my shoulders, the ache in my bones, and how hard I was trying to pretend like I was okay.
Because I couldn't afford to look weak now. Not in front of him.
Not when I was already losing more than I could say.