In The Devil's keeping

hrough the hallway like a b

her face twisted with a sneer. "You're eighteen today. That mean

thing she's scraped off her s

but say nothing.

Here's your notary certificate. Good luck out

she hadn't just booted me into the stree

. No more foster homes. No more pretending anyone's coming back for me. N

s. Not here. Not now. I won

econdhand backpack: two shirts, a pair of jeans, deodorant, and a toothbrush. Th

ybe it's always been this loud. Maybe

til I realize I'm in a park. Children laugh somewhere behi

't had a plan since I woke up. I stare down at my sneakers. One's

beau

e. She's striking - tall, glowing brown skin, emerald green eyes

you need to m

t is. T

traight to business. I should be suspicious. I should walk away. But

I admit

nding me a gloss

ub?"

el in the NYC red light district. Client

. My hands tremble,

he says as she stands. "But if

sli

leg. I hand it back

in my back pocket. I pull

I know you will). You'll need new c

dr

ing room. The girl in the mirror is cleaner now - tighter

ld clothes i

etting

s in violent pink neon. The longer I look

ree

les as I reac

?" a deep

ge. Arms crossed

kid. I'm he

place ain't for

y voice not to shake. "Le

steps out. Mid-30s, olive skin, sharp features, a neatly trimme

nods. "I was just

eyes lan

our name?

tel

do you wan

to wor

ou know what kind

It's a b

n't reach his eyes. "A

es

utcher eyeing livestoc

s. Bass vibrating through my spine. Perfum

tel

can react. "I was half sure you'd ch

e locked on Dante as he dis

a says, dragging

ck leather, tinted windows, the

behind a desk. "We do paperwork befo

een,"

ract toward me.

skim t

hours: 8

tory

kly

ability

at on

or emotional or physical harm

ccountable for what

I provide the clients. I keep the law off your back. Bu

le

walk," he adds.

curl arou

hrough fire, Estelle. W

si

lk name, look, and costume. You're not Estelle

ir and eyes me like I'm

oat ti

it. No g

hten my

unforge