“Sabrina, this is Douglas Hughes from Great Sans bank calling you for the fifth time-” Abruptly, I hang up, the cell phone clattering onto the kitchen table. No need to listen to the remainder of his spiel. His request is one I’ve heard time and again from a chorus of creditors—money that I simply don't have. My eyes reluctantly slide across the table, landing on the stark letter from Great Sans Bank, warning me of their intent to see me in court should I fail to meet the next payment. The mail was waiting for me when I arrived home from my meeting with Jack a few days ago—a divine reminder that I'm screwed unless I accept his offer. What a brilliant morning that was.
© 2024 Elle Fielding
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