The cheap blonde wig scratched faintly at Lacey’s scalp, a constant reminder of how fake this all was was—yet somehow, it felt right. She’d brushed it out carefully, curling the ends under just slightly. Not quite bimbo, but not quite wholesome. Just enough to turn heads and make people wonder. The top she chose was cropped high enough to flash the smooth skin of her lower stomach when she moved. It draped loose across he...

The bills were still on the table, right where he left them. Jesse stood in the kitchen with a mug of cold coffee in his hands, staring at the money like it might bite his fingers off. He hadn’t touched it. Not since last night. It was too clean, too neatly folded: offensive in its crispness. In reality it was anything but clean money. Dirty money. He kept hearing the man’s voice in his head. “Buy something pretty.” It ma...

The ceiling paint was flaking like dead skin, shedding in tiny curls that landed on the cluttered floor. Jesse lay on his mattress—cold and hard—staring up at the moldy crater above his bed like it might someday collapse and end things for him. That’d be a mercy. No calls back from the job interviews, fridge humming empty, and rent was due in two days. Landlord had stopped being polite two months ago. His phone vibrated....