Chapter 1 One

—Mabel—

“Please, Mr. Sanderson. I just need a few more days. I will get you the rent.”

“You’ve said that for three weeks now, Mabel. I’ve been more than reasonable!”

“I'm working extra shifts at the restaurant. I-I promise, I’ll have your money very soon. Give me more time.”

“You’ve had time, and you’re running out of it, Mabel. I want my money tomorrow or I’m kicking you out of the apartment. End of discussion!”

And just as he’d called, my landlord ended the call and the phone buzzed against my ear. I stood alone in the alley and glanced up at the hot afternoon sun. Fresh tears welled up in my eyes, but I refused to let them fall, wiping them with the back of my hand. Sometimes, I feel fate deliberately sends chaos in my life just to see how much I could take.

But crying has never solved any of my problems—it wouldn’t now.

The door behind me swung open and a familiar voice roared.

“Mabel Parker!!!”

Oh, no!

Slowly, I turned around and my gaze settled on Manager Evelyn. Her eyes blazed with fury and her nostrils flared.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked.

“I came out to answer a call from my landlord. I’m sorry. It was important.”

“Important?” she interrupted. “I have a full diner and you come out here to take a call?” she shrieked and pointed an index finger at me.

“One more slip, one more lackadaisical attitude from you, Miss Parker, and you’re fired!”

Fired? My eyes widened with shock. No, no, no! I can’t get fired, I needed this job more than anything.

“I’m sorry, Madam Evelyn. It– it won’t happen again.”

She hissed and headed back inside the diner. I knew better to follow her if I didn’t want this to escalate. I tucked my phone in my apron’s pocket and stumbled after her.

The diner was its usual ambiance, the place was packed with people typical of an afternoon rush.

Pulling out my jotter, I stumbled toward the closest table and froze.

Behind the table was a small family—the man and the woman played with their daughter, telling jokes and laughing heartily as they scanned the menu. It reminded me of the family.

My mother, when she was alive, used to make every moment feel like a celebration. She’d hum while making breakfast, tell stories that had my father and me laughing till our sides hurt, and tuck me in with a kiss every night.

All that changed the day she didn’t come home. The car accident took her away from us, leaving behind a void so large it swallowed everything good in our lives.

My father started staying out late—first at bars, drowning his sorrows in alcohol. Then in casinos, chasing some illusion of solace in the spin of a roulette wheel.

It was only a matter of time and he stopped coming home entirely. The letters from the mortgage company started piling up on the kitchen counter, each one more urgent than the last until I lost my home.

I rented a studio apartment down the street. It wasn’t easy surviving alone without my father, but I had no choice.

However, two nights ago, he showed up at my door. “Father?”

“I had nowhere else to pass the night, so I was thinking if you could let me in.”

It was raining and late into midnight. I let him into my house. “Come in.”

But the next morning, I woke up to all my savings and groceries gone. This was the fourth time he was doing this to me.

Thus, I was betrayed by the one person who was supposed to protect me.

Tears gathered in my eyes, but I stylishly wiped them, and proceeded to the table.

“What may I get you?” I asked with a practiced smile.

The woman looked up and grinned. “I will take grilled salmon with steamed vegetables.”

“I want apple pie and a cup of chocolate ice cream,” the girl replied.

“Chicken tenders with mac and cheese,” the man added.

I jotted down their orders. Just as I turned to leave, the bell above the entrance door jingled as five men in black coats walked into the diner. I didn’t need to be told who they were. Each time my father appeared at my doorstep, he always left his mess for me to clean up.

Quickly, I turned away, keeping my head down. I shuffled back to the counter and turned my attention to the fridge.

“Mabel Parker!!” one of them barked and the once busy diner fell irrevocably quiet. They’ve found me, haven’t they?

Footsteps inched towards me and slowly, I turned around. “Hiding like your father?” he teased.

“Welcome to Maple Lane Diner. What may I get you?” I plastered a smile on my face.

“Cut the bullshit!” the man rasped, obviously the leader of the group. “Where is your father?”

I swallowed. “I–I don’t know where he is.”

“It’s fine.” The man scoffed. “Since you’re his daughter, his debts fall on you. Where’s our money?”

“Money? I don't have any money,” I replied sincerely.

“Cut the bullshit!” he banged the table.

“He took everything from me,” I stammered. “I-I don’t have any money.”

My pleas fell on deaf ears. The man grabbed a plate from the counter and threw it on the floor.

The smashing sounds of ceramics filled the air. “Please stop!” I begged. “Don’t draw the attention of my manager.”

Too late, the door behind me flung open and Madam Evelyn walked into the room. “What the hell is going on here?” she asked.

“Your employee here is owing us and has refused to pay us,” the man before the counter answered and turned his attention back to me.

“Three days, Miss Parker. You have three days or you will regret it.”