AVA’S POV
I couldn't sleep. Elise's voicemail played on loop in my head, her scared voice echoing in the darkness of my dorm room. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her face – young, innocent, trusting me to always be there for her. And now she was in danger because of some stupid mistake.
By six in the morning, I gave up on sleep completely. I grabbed my phone and called her back, my hands shaking as I dialed. It went straight to voicemail. I tried again. Same thing. The third time, I left a message.
"Elise, it's me. Call me back as soon as you get this. We're going to figure this out, okay? Don't do anything stupid. I love you."
Sophie was still sleeping when I crept out of our room and headed to the common area. I needed to think clearly, and I couldn't do that with her snoring in the background. The dorm was quiet except for the hum of the vending machines and the distant sound of someone's alarm going off.
I made a list on my phone of everyone who might be able to help. It wasn't a long list. Our parents died in a car accident when I was sixteen and Elise was thirteen. Since then, it had just been the two of us, with some help from social services until I turned eighteen. We didn't have grandparents or close family friends. We had each other, and that was it.
Well, almost. There was Uncle Mark.
Mark was our dad's brother, and he'd made it clear after the funeral that taking care of two teenage girls wasn't in his plans. He'd shown up to a few family court hearings, signed whatever papers he needed to sign, and then disappeared back to his life in Seattle. I hadn't talked to him in three years.
But desperate times called for desperate measures.
I found his number in my old contacts and dialed before I could change my mind. It rang four times before his sleepy voice answered.
"Hello?"
"Uncle Mark? It's Ava. Ava Moreau, your niece."
There was a long pause. "Ava? Jesus, what time is it? Why are you calling so early?"
"I'm sorry, but this is an emergency. Elise is in trouble, and I need help."
Another pause. "What kind of trouble?"
I took a deep breath and explained everything I knew. The money, the threats, the deadline. Mark listened without interrupting, which I took as a good sign.
"Twenty thousand dollars," he said when I finished. "That's a lot of money, Ava."
"I know, but she's family. She's your niece too."
"Look, kid, I wish I could help, but I'm not exactly rolling in cash myself. The restaurant business isn't what it used to be, and with my divorce..." He trailed off. "I'm sorry, but I can't just pull twenty grand out of thin air."
The line went quiet. I felt like someone had punched me in the stomach.
"Maybe you could take out a loan?" I suggested weakly.
"With what collateral? Listen, Ava, I'm sorry about Elise, I really am. But you girls need to figure this out on your own. Call the police or something."
"The police won't help with debt collection," I said, but he'd already hung up.
I stared at my phone, feeling more alone than I had since our parents died. Uncle Mark was supposed to be family, but he'd just confirmed what I'd always known – we only had each other.
Next, I tried the church where Elise and I used to go when we were younger. Pastor Williams remembered us, and he was kind and sympathetic, but the church's emergency fund maxed out at five hundred dollars. He promised to pray for us, which was sweet, but prayer wasn't going to pay off dangerous people.
I called the financial aid office at my school, hoping they might have some kind of emergency grant or loan program. The woman who answered was helpful but realistic.
"We do have emergency funds for students in crisis," she explained, "but they're typically for much smaller amounts. A few hundred dollars for rent or groceries, that sort of thing. Twenty thousand is beyond what we can provide."
She suggested I talk to a financial counselor about student loans, but I already knew my credit wasn't good enough for that kind of money, and even if it was, private loans took weeks to process. Elise didn't have weeks.
By noon, I was running out of options. I'd called every resource I could think of, and the answer was always the same – they were sorry, but they couldn't help with that amount of money.
That's when my phone buzzed with a text from Elise.
They came to my apartment again. They said $20,000 by Friday or they'll hurt me. Ava, I'm so scared. What am I going to do?
My hands were shaking as I typed back: I'm going to figure this out. Don't worry. I promise I'll find the money.
But even as I sent the message, I had no idea how I was going to keep that promise.
Sophie found me in the common area around two, crying over my laptop as I desperately searched for loan companies online.
"Ava? What's wrong?" She sat down beside me, her face full of concern.
I told her everything. About Elise, about the money, about how I'd spent the entire morning calling people who couldn't or wouldn't help. Sophie listened with growing horror.
"Twenty thousand dollars," she whispered. "That's insane. What did she do?"
"I don't know. She wouldn't say in the voicemail." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand. "I just know I have to find a way to help her."
Sophie was quiet for a long moment, staring at her hands. When she looked up, there was something strange in her expression – like she was debating whether to say something.
"What?" I asked.
"It's probably nothing," she said slowly. "But there was this girl in my sociology class last semester. Emma something. She was always stressed about money, working three jobs, barely scraping by."
"Okay?"
"Then one day she showed up with designer clothes, a new laptop, talking about how she'd solved all her money problems." Sophie's voice dropped lower. "She said she'd made six figures in one night."
I stared at her. "Six figures? How?"
Sophie glanced around the empty common room and leaned closer. "She said she sold something. Something that was one-time only, if you know what I mean."