BRAIDED BROOD

The afternoon sun was brilliantly warm as Emily cruised down the street on her motorcycle. Her helmet was securely fastened, but beneath it, she was smiling from ear to ear, occasionally shouting at the top of her lungs just to feel the rush of the wind.

As she passed the campus basketball courts, she lifted her visor to watch a group of college boys running drills. "Just wait, okay?" she whispered to herself, a genuine thrill in her voice. "I'll be a college student starting next month, too."

She pulled over, hopped off the bike, and carefully pulled out the pizzas they had ordered. "Hey, seniors! Your pizza delivery is here!" she called out cheerfully. Once the boxes were handed off, she was back on the road, heading toward her next drop-off.

That was when she crossed paths with Kyle Jeffery.

He was a wealthy young man from a powerful family, though Emily didn't know that yet.

All she saw was a guy who had just climbed off a sleek motorcycle, his helmet still hiding his face. He was walking steadily toward a group of men who were tossing around a woman's purse they had just forcefully taken.

"Give it back," he said. His voice wasn't a shout; it was just deadly calm.

One of the guys sneered and threw the purse onto the pavement like a piece of trash, signaling the others to rush him. It took Jeffery all of a minute to put them on the ground, scoop up the purse, and ride off like nothing had happened.

Watching from a distance, Emily felt a fierce wave of indignation. Without knowing the context, she completely misread the situation, mistaking him for a violent troublemaker who went around beating people up in broad daylight.

"Just look at that... how dare you commit a crime right in front of me?" she muttered angrily, her grip tightening on the handlebars. "Don't worry, I will get you. You're dead meat."

She revved her engine and chased after him down the busy road, weaving through the afternoon traffic, yelling the whole way. She was closing the gap when, suddenly, her bike gave a pathetic sputter and began to stall.

"Please, just a little further!" she begged, smacking the tank as if it might listen. "That little brat, I need to catch him... Noooooo!"

The bike finally rolled to a dead stop right beside a mini love garden filled with beautiful trees and colorful flowers. Breathing heavily, she peered over her handlebars and spotted him in the distance, talking to a woman.

"Gosh... so this is where he is. Finally," she breathed.

Jeffery handed the purse back to its owner, who beamed with gratitude. "Here is your purse," he said.

"Thank you so much!" The woman replied warmly, her eyes instantly locked onto him. "Please allow me to buy you a coffee, at least. Can I have your number? I'd really like to thank you properly."

While she was still talking, Jeffery clicked his visor down, started his engine, and rode off without a single word.

Emily slowly rolled her bike toward the dazed woman, who was still staring smitten in the direction he had disappeared.

"Was there something wrong with that guy who just left?" Emily asked bluntly.

The woman sighed happily. "I felt like I just met my knight in shining armor." She hugged the purse to her chest. "He even got my bag back for me."

"Oh! So that bag was yours?" Emily blinked, her voice tinged with surprise.

"This bag is like my glass slipper," the lady responded. She checked her wristwatch, suddenly gasped as she realized she was late for work, and ran off immediately.

"Glass slippers, my foot..." Emily sneered, rolling her eyes. "But it seems like there are still some decent guys out there."

Just then, her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket.

"Oh! Yes, boss? I just finished my delivery... I'm on my way back now." Emily flipped the fuel switch to her reserve tank and kicked the starter until the engine sputtered back to life. "I'll be there really soon!"

Later that evening, after finishing her shift, Emily stopped at the convenience store. She approached the store clerk, Mr. Dudu, holding a shopping basket and offering a hopeful smile, praying he'd let her take the soon-to-expire items home.

"Gosh! You're a pathetic girl," Mr. Dudu muttered, looking irritated.

"What? They don't expire until the end of today. You are just going to throw these out anyway," Emily countered, completely unbothered. She opened a paper bag and began transferring the items from the basket into it. "Besides, I will eat it all!" she said joyfully.

"Whatever, just take it all," he yelled, waving a hand to dismiss her.

"You're really the best, sir! An absolute angel!" she praised him, flashing a bright grin.

"Seriously?" he asked, deadpan.

"Goodbye!" She waved her hand as she left.

Late that night, the city was dazzling. Streetlights hummed, and the windows of towers, cathedrals, and small homes shone gold in the dark. Emily let herself into the house and called out a greeting no one answered.

In the living room, her stepmother, Darus, and her stepsister, Yara, were curled up on the couch, happily enjoying a large bowl of crispy fried chicken. The good kind, crispy and golden, the kind Emily had been craving for weeks. She swallowed hard and looked away.

"I'm home," she repeated softly, kicking off her worn sneakers, already halfway to her room.

"Hey! Did you do the dishes properly?" Darus called out, turning to look at her with disdain. "Or are you telling us you hate doing chores?"

"I'm sorry. I'll scrub them really well next time," Emily apologized.

"Also, did you pick up the clothes I left at the dry cleaner?" Yara asked, her mouth full of chicken.

Emily froze. "Oh... no, I totally forgot. I'll pick them up first thing tomorrow, sister. I'm so sorry."

"Gosh! Again, with the sister thing! It pisses me off!" Yara yelled, rolling her eyes. "You don't know how to do anything right. I wonder where you get it from."

"Her dead mom, obviously," Darus said, not even looking up.

The words landed like a slap. Emily's throat tightened; she looked down, blinked hard, and walked the rest of the way to her room without a word.

She sat on the edge of her narrow bed and pulled out a crumpled list of part-time jobs, then unwrapped an expired sausage roll from the store and quietly ate it for dinner.

"I'll call this one up next week," she murmured to herself, scanning the crumpled paper. "Okay... I'll get my paycheck from the convenience store in three days, and I'll be getting my pay from the restaurant in a week."

She pulled out her bank book and opened it, and something in her eyes brightened at the numbers there. "I'm getting close," she whispered. "You can do this, Emily!"