Alexia pushed open the heavy glass doors of the NYPD Brooklyn precinct. The smell hit her instantly-a nauseating mix of industrial bleach, stale coffee, and unwashed bodies.
The lobby was a chaotic mess. Officers shouted over ringing phones, and handcuffed suspects cursed loudly from wooden benches. She kept her head down, weaving through the crowd until she reached the chipped paint of the reception desk.
"Karson Vaughan," she told the desk sergeant, her voice tight.
The officer didn't look up from his computer. He flipped through a stained logbook. "ID. And bail is five hundred. Cash."
Alexia's hands shook as she unzipped her tote bag. She pulled out her worn wallet. Inside were five crisp hundred-dollar bills and a lone, crumpled ten—the absolute entirety of her meager savings, scraped together from months of exhausting shifts at the campus bookstore.
Her fingertips went numb as she slid the cash under the plexiglass window.
The officer hit a few keys and grabbed his radio. "Bring Vaughan up."
A heavy metal door clanged open at the end of the hallway.
A tall officer shoved Karson forward. The teenager's white t-shirt was splattered with dried blood. His lip was split wide open, and his left cheekbone was swollen into a purple knot.
Alexia gasped. The air rushed out of her lungs. She ran forward, reaching out to touch his bruised face.
Karson jerked his head away, dodging her hand.
He refused to look her in the eye. He snatched his plastic bag of belongings from the officer with aggressive, rebellious energy.
Alexia signed the release papers. Her hand trembled so violently that the pen tore through the cheap paper. She grabbed Karson's bicep and dragged him toward the exit.
They walked out into the harsh sunlight of the Brooklyn streets in dead silence. Overhead, an elevated subway train roared past, rattling the concrete beneath their feet and drowning out the city noise.
As the train faded, Alexia ripped her hand away from his arm.
"Why?" she demanded, her voice shaking with suppressed rage. "Why are you fighting street thugs, Karson?"
Karson spun around like a cornered animal. "Because they were talking trash! They were calling you names, Alex!"
Alexia froze. The blood drained from her face. Her fingers instinctively curled into the fabric of her hoodie. "What did they say?"
Karson's eyes were red. He gritted his teeth, spitting the words out. "They said you're a sugar baby. They said you're letting some Manhattan billionaire use your body to pay for your fancy life."
The words sliced through Alexia's eardrums like razor blades.
The memory of the white Plan B pill from this morning flashed in her mind. A wave of profound, suffocating shame crashed over her.
Her entire body began to shake. She raised her right hand, fully intending to slap the insolence out of him. But as her hand hovered in the air, she saw the fresh blood oozing from his split lip.
Her arm dropped to her side.
She covered her face with both hands. The tears finally broke through. "You have no idea," she sobbed, her chest heaving. "You have no idea what I do to keep this family afloat."
Seeing her break down shattered Karson's tough exterior. He stepped forward, his hands hovering awkwardly, wanting to wipe her tears.
Alexia shoved him back.
Karson looked at the ground. His voice cracked. "I didn't just fight them because of the rumors, Alex. I fought them because I was pissed."
Alexia stopped crying. She lowered her hands. A cold, venomous dread wrapped around her heart.
Karson took a deep, shuddering breath. "Dozier went back to the underground tables. He lost it all. The money you sent home last month... it's gone."
The news hit her like a physical blow. Alexia stumbled backward. Her shoulder blades hit the rough brick wall of an alleyway. Her brain short-circuited.
"No," she whispered, shaking her head frantically. "That was for Mom's prescriptions. That was for the rent. He wouldn't."
Karson punched the brick wall. His knuckles split open, smearing blood on the red clay. "He's a parasite, Alex! He's going to drag us both down until we're dead!"
The crushing weight of her reality closed in on her. The endless black hole of her family. The transaction of her body. She couldn't breathe.
Alexia slid down the rough brick wall until she hit the pavement. She pulled her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her legs, trying to hold herself together.
Karson dropped down next to her. He wrapped his arms around her shaking shoulders, pulling her into a tight, desperate hug. He rested his chin on the top of her head. "I'll get a job. I swear, I'll take care of you."
The warmth of her brother's body was the only real thing she had left. Alexia buried her face in his shoulder and wailed.
When the tears finally stopped, her throat felt like sandpaper. She wiped her face with the back of her sleeve and forced herself to stand up. She pulled Karson up with her.
She dug into her wallet and pulled out a crumpled ten-dollar bill. She shoved it into his hand.
"Go to the pharmacy. Buy some bandages. Then go straight to school," she ordered, her voice dead and hollow.
Karson looked back at her three times as he walked toward the subway entrance.
Alexia stood alone on the freezing street corner. She pulled her phone out of her pocket. The screen was completely black. Dead battery.
