Page 26 of Crossing Lines

“What did you mean earlier?” I ask. “About Evren expecting everyone to use him?”

“Oh, that.” Zeki stiffens. “It’s not my story to tell.”

“Ugh, you’re the most frustrating person I’ve ever met.”

“Even more so than my brother?” Zeki has an easy grin on his face. “I guess I’ve officially made it in life.”

“Oooorrrr, you could help me out.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m curious.”

Zeki gives me a long look. “All I’ll say on the matter is that Evren keeps to himself and has a difficult time trusting people for good reason. But he’s the best person I know, so go easy on him.”

“I’m not going to do anything to him.”

He snorts. “Whatever you say. Now about my shirt idea…”

The salary Stella’s paying me is generous, but not enough to outfit a massive house in luxury. So, I plan to thrift as much as I can and turn the pieces I find into ones that are beautiful, unique, and full of feeling. Thrifting is what helped me get through life, using what little money I had and some elbow grease to refurbish someone else’s trash. It’s how I got what little furniture I had in Mom’s trailer.

Today, I’m on a hunt for a desk and anything else I might find useful for Stella’s home. The next rooms I need to tackle are an office and a guest room. I probably should work on the kitchen and living room first, but I find it amusing that they’re not complete.

After scanning the shop, I find it—a mahogany desk with intricate carvings and sporting a rich and dark wood full of potential,despite the scratches and water stains.A little elbow grease and some high-quality wood polish will bring back its former glory. Maybe I can paint something that looks like fake marble on the top surface, give it a mix between old and new.

A thrill of excitement runs through me.This is why I’m decorating Stella’s house this way. Transforming the overlooked,the discarded,into something extraordinary is everything I believe in.

When I hop into my car, my phone rings.Momflashes acrossthe screen.

Shit.

Sighing, I answer. There’s no point in delaying the inevitable. She’ll just keep calling, anyway.

“Niiiina, baby.” I hate how she draws out my name, as if we’re close, as if she’s happy to hear from me.

“Hi. What’s up?”

“I’ve been thinking more about that jacket you made…”

“Oh?”

“I think it might be the solution to all our problems.”

“What problems?” I ask to buy time. Of course, I know what she’s going to say. She never has enough money. Before I moved to Skyrise, I prepaid her rent for the next three months, using my entire savings. I also send her money every week for groceries and to help her with her bills. I know it’s wrong to send her money when I’m sure it all goes to her pill addiction, but I have to help her. She doesn’t have anyone else, and in a lot of ways, that’s my fault.

“Our money problems, of course,” she says. “Aren’t you tired of struggling?”

“Who isn’t?”

“Then why don’t you just set up a shop and sell it? Start with a website. It should be easy.”

“That’s a good idea. I’ll get to work on that,” I lie. Sometimes it’s easier to agree with her than to argue.

“Good, that’s good, baby. Try to do it today? And can you send me a little more this week? I used the AC more because of the heat. You know how hot it gets here.”

“How much more?” I ask.

“Only two hundred.”

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