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I close my eyes. The base of my skull is starting to ache. I need more stardust inside me soon or the day is going to get ugly. But I’d rather have this done.

“Sure. I’m in the neighborhood. I’ll stop by.”

I hang up and open a text to Miloš, my supplier.

Need at least 50. ASAP

Miloš

Full in cash. No upfront.

Fuck. I stare at the screen, jaw tight.

25 then

Miloš

2hrs

Sava pulls up in front of a building that looks like an old school because it kind of is one. It’s still raining heavily. I get out through the wall of rain and walk in.

The Voss Institute, orphanage for supernatural kids. My mother started it, back when our family had money and she liked to believe in things. Sometimes I think she cared more about these kids than she ever did about me. This is also where I met Ezra, skinny even then, cheekbones like blades, the only child in the place who wasn’t nervous about talking to me when I came with my mother. I pass the classrooms. Kids bent over books, the low sounds of a school day. The building looks exactly as worn on the inside as it does from the street, paint peeling all over. As I walk down the corridor, the rainwater drips into buckets lining the wall. Drop after drop. Like a clock, counting down the little time I have left to fix all this.

Valerie meets me in her office. Hair pinned, suit clean, face holding together well for fifty, which is what the botox is for.

“Miss Voss. Thank you for coming so quickly.”

“Of course. What’s the problem.” I want this fast. There is always a problem. Every time her name comes up on my phone it costs me money I don’t have.

“The building is deteriorating. The roof leaks, damp has gotten into everything.” She folds her hands on the desk. “The paint is coming off the walls. There’s mold in the children’s rooms. We need to address it.”

I press my fingers to my temples. She watches me do it.

“I understand it’s a lot,” she says. “But I am afraid, if we don’t take care of it, we will have to remove some of the children, or change location.” Which, in this economy, with real estate prices being what they are, would be impossible.

“How much.” I ask straight out.

She pauses.

“Valerie.” My voice rises.

“The contractor says tens of thousands. But the roof is the most urgent.”

I cannot catch one break. Not one.

“Okay. I’ll get you the money. I just need time.”

“Miss Voss.” Her voice softens. “I do understand the weight of this. No one expected you to take care of us after your parents passed. Anyone would understand if you chose to walk away.”

I scoff. And what happens if I walk away? The kids end up on the streets, doing drugs, selling themselves, or working for monsters. This place isn’t perfect, but it’s safe. At least I can give them that.

“It has my mother’s name on the wall.” One of the few things she left behind. This, and her watch that I wear everyday. Everything else went to debt collectors when they came after my father.

“Perhaps you’d like to see the children. I think they’d be glad,” she says.

“No.” The word comes out colder than I intended. “They shouldn’t be around someone like me.”

Drug dealer. Addict. Girl with more blood on her hands than she can ever wash off.