Michael was heading home after work when he stopped at a traffic light. Looking around to see if he could cross the street, something caught his attention—a figure on the bridge across the way. The light turned green before he could get a clear look, but once closer, he glanced again. It was a woman with torn clothes, covered in bruises as if she'd been in a fight. Michael muttered to himself, “No thanks,” and turned to walk the other way. But then, he heard a thud. She had fallen.
He sighed, feeling the weight of a choice he didn’t want to make. Reluctantly, he went to her. After helping her up, he brought her to his apartment, treated her wounds, dressed her in some oversized clothes, and laid her on his bed.
Later that night.
Gaby stirred awake, her body aching but her wounds bandaged. She looked around the unfamiliar room, noticing the clothes she wore weren’t hers. Feeling cautious, she pushed herself off the bed, leaning against the wall for support. Stepping into the living room, she spotted a young man asleep on the couch.
Relief washed over her—it wasn’t anyone she knew. She returned to the bed, too drained to think about what had happened.
The next morning.
The smell of food roused Gaby from sleep. Curious, she left the room and walked into the living area. The same boy from last night sat at the table, waiting. He gestured for her to sit, and she immediately began eating, hungry and eager. He watched her quietly as she devoured the meal.
“My name is Michael,” he said between bites. “What’s yours?”
“Gaby,” she mumbled, her mouth full of food. She swallowed and added, “Thanks for... helping me.” She gave him a smile, crumbs at the corners of her lips.
The following day.
The fridge was nearly empty, and Gaby still had no change of clothes. Michael slipped on his shoes, getting ready to head out.
“Can I come with you? My wounds are better,” Gaby asked, appearing in the doorway, wearing an oversized shirt cinched at the waist with a belt.
Michael raised a brow. “You can barely walk. When you’re better, we’ll go out. For now, breakfast is on the table. I’ll be back in an hour.” With that, he left.
An hour later.
Michael returned, arms full of shopping bags. The afternoon sun poured into the living room, where a fan hummed and the terrace door stood ajar. He paused when he saw Gaby standing there, gazing outside. She turned when she heard him.
“I thought you’d take longer,” she said casually.
Some time later.
After they finished eating, Michael checked Gaby’s wounds. Noticing she had improved, he decided to take her with him to his university.
“You can’t come to class with me,” he said as they arrived on campus, “but you can explore. Here’s some money if you need anything. Meet me back here in an hour.” He didn’t wait for her response before heading to his lecture.
On campus.
Gaby’s phone buzzed. It was her mother, Kristin.
“GABY! MY BABY! How have you been? Your mother’s been so worried about you! What happened? My calls weren’t going through!” Kristin’s voice was frantic.
“Sorry, Mom, my phone broke. I had to get a new one,” Gaby replied, her tone flat.
“Oh, and I almost forgot! I’ve paid off all my debts! Well, more like m—”
Before Kristin could finish, the debt collectors from before appeared. They snatched Gaby’s phone and crowded her. This time, they weren’t just looking for money—they wanted payback.
Already in a bad mood, Gaby snapped. She fought back, giving them the beating of their lives.
That night.
Michael, half-asleep on the couch, heard the door creak open. Gaby walked in, bruised and bloodied. He sat up, narrowing his eyes.
“It’s time you tell me what’s going on,” he said firmly.
Gaby hesitated but eventually spilled everything. After treating her wounds again, they both went to bed, silently processing what had happened.
A few days later.
Michael was leaving work when he stopped by a convenience store to grab a few things. While he was paying, some men walked in. They matched the description of the debt collectors Gaby had told him about.
“Insert insults towards her,” one sneered.
“More insults towards her,” another added, laughing.
Michael left the store calmly, but his grip on the bat he carried tightened. He slipped into a nearby alley and waited for them to come out.
ns 15.158.61.8da2
