Page 2 of Stiletto's Savior

My heart races with each step. I push through the knots in my chest, reminding myself why I’m out here.

“She needs us,” I whisper, echoing Suyin’s words. But part of me still resents it. Why should we have to care? She hardly ever cared about us when we were children.

The air is thick with the scent of garbage and something else—something sweet and sickly. I shake my head, trying to focus. No distractions. I need to find her before it’s too late.

I stop by a graffiti-covered wall, catching my breath. The air is thick with desperation. I can almost taste it.

Then, my phone buzzes, jolting me back to reality.

“Yes!” I exclaim, snatching it from my pocket.

A message from my mother.

Meet me at 19832 Monroe St.

“Monroe?” My brow furrows. “That’s not far.”

But why? Why would she be there?

“Ugh, just typical,” I groan, frustration bubbling up. “Can’t just stay put, can you?”

I glance at the time. Less than thirty minutes gone. I can still do this.

“Okay, don’t panic,” I whisper to myself, pushing off the wall. “Just keep moving.”

The streets grow darker as I trek deeper into the neighborhood. An old woman shuffles past me, clutching a plastic bag. Her eyes meet mine, filled with stories I can’t read.

“Be careful, dear,” she rasps.

“Yeah, you too,” I reply, forcing a smile.

I turn onto Monroe, adrenaline coursing through me. The buildings loom like silent sentinels, watching my every move. I spot the address—an old brick house, its windows boarded up, looking abandoned.

“Great,” I mumble, dread pooling in my stomach. “What now?”

Taking a deep breath, I approach the door. My hand hovers over the knob, hesitation creeping in.

“Just check it out,” I urge myself. “You’ve got this.”

I twist the knob, and it creaks open. Dark inside. A chill runs down my spine.

“SuSu? You in here?” I call out, my voice echoing in the emptiness.

No answer. Just silence.

“Please don’t be dead.”

My heart races again. This isn’t how it ends. It can’t be.

“Come on, Mom. Where are you?”

I step cautiously inside, the air stale and heavy. Each creak of the floorboards sends shivers down my spine. I inhale deeply, trying to drown out the stench.

“Think, think,” I whisper, urgency threading through my thoughts. “Where the hell would she be in here?”

And then, I push deeper into the shadows, ready to face whatever awaits me.

“Come on, Mom. You know we’re pissed, but we just want to make sure you’re okay,” I call out, trying to keep my tone steady. “Please, come out.”

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