Keisha’s mind flashed to her mom’s voice, like it always did when she was cornered.
Baby, when somebody’s in trouble, you help them. You don’t have to like the risk. You just have to be human.
Keisha swallowed hard.
Fear tasted like metal.
She stepped back to the door, slid the chain, cracked it open an inch.
The cold rushed in like a slap.
The big man leaned down so she could see his eyes.
They weren’t hungry eyes.
They were tired eyes.
“Thank you,” he said, and his voice broke on the words like he didn’t expect kindness to still exist. “Name’s Mike.”
Keisha stared at the row of men behind him, all shivering, all waiting for her decision like it was a verdict.
“How many?” she whispered.
“Twenty-five,” Mike said. “We stick together. Nobody gets left.”
Keisha looked down at Marcus’s little face—sleepy, trusting, unaware of the storm outside and the storm inside her chest.
