Rebecca held her phone in her hand longer than she meant to before finally calling Venessa.

“We need to talk,” she said when the call connected, her voice tight. “Can we meet? Somewhere quiet. It’s… important.”

They met later that afternoon at a small café away from the city center. Venessa arrived calm and composed, while Rebecca looked worn, her usual sharpness dulled by worry.

Rebecca wrapped her hands around her cup, gathering herself before speaking.

“I wouldn’t ask if I had another option,” she began quietly. “Raya isn’t well. She’s back in the hospital. The bills are piling up.”

Venessa watched her without interrupting.

“With everything going on,” Rebecca...