Chapter 2 Burning alone.

“She's awake!”

The voice dragged Ursula out of darkness.

Her chest burned, coughs ripping out of her like fire.

A stranger knelt over her, pushing something into her hand.

“Here, breathe this.”

An inhaler.

Ursula sucked it in the way a starving child would cling to food, desperate, trembling, her tears spilling uncontrollably.

The woman helping her looked just as worn, hair tangled, eyes hollow.

“You can keep it,” she said quickly, almost guiltily.

“Thank… you,” Ursula managed, her voice raspy.

“It’s nothing. Goodbye.”

The woman turned and hurried off before Ursula could say more.

Ursula stuffed the inhaler into her pocket.

Her chest still felt heavy, but she forced herself to stand.

She couldn’t afford to stop. Not when her mother’s life was slipping through her fingers.

The salon, she thought suddenly.

Yes. If I sell Mom’s salon, I might raise enough for the surgery.

Her stomach growled so loudly it hurt.

She hadn’t eaten since morning.

She stumbled into a fast food restaurant.

“One burger,” she whispered.

The cashier’s eyes scanned over her messy hair, pale face, swollen eyes.

“Regular?” the woman asked in a sharp tone.

Ursula flushed, suddenly hyper-aware of how terrible she looked.

Do I look like a beggar? Like someone who doesn’t belong here?

“Regular,” she said softly.

“That’ll be ten dollars,” the cashier said, slapping the tray down with a bored expression.

Ursula reached into her pocket.

Her fingers brushed air.

She froze.

Her money. Her food coupons. Even her phone.

Gone.

Her chest squeezed.

No.The woman who gave me the inhaler..I can't believe she took everything. Why would she do that? If she had asked me to pay her for kindness, I probably would have given half of the money. After all, it's not nearly up to what I need to save my mom..but she took it completely without caring if I had anything left anywhere.

“Fuck! No!” she whispered, the feeling of embarrassment flushed through her body.

“Is there a problem, miss?” the cashier snapped.

Ursula’s lips trembled.

“I… think I left my wallet at home.” The lie sounded as thin and shaky as she felt.

The cashier rolled her eyes and yanked the tray back.

"Yeah right! She just wants free food,” someone in line scoffed.

“She probably doesn’t even have a home.”

Laughter and murmurs rippled behind her. Ursula’s face burned.

She turned and bolted, swallowing the sob that clawed at her throat.

She promised herself she wouldn’t cry again. Not here. Not in front of strangers who would only sneer.

Focus, Ursula. You have to save Mom. I’ll save you, no matter what. This isn't the time to cry for people but still I wonder why no one cares to help anyone without taking something in return..why?

Outside, someone bumped her shoulder.

She staggered.

“Watch it, loser!” a boy with cold grey eyes barked before shoving past her.

Ursula clenched her fists but said nothing.

Apologizing for things that weren’t her fault had been her way of surviving. Not anymore.

She reached her mother’s salon and tore out a carton and scribbled: FOR SALE. $20,000. DISTRESS SALE.

She lifted it high, her voice breaking.

“Twenty thousand! Please, someone buy it now! It’s urgent!”

God, please if you exist, send a buyer, send help, I really need it, please.

Passersby glanced at her and kept walking. A few stopped and observed with curiosity but when she tried to approach them, they walked away.

Her throat burned, but she refused to cry.

Then a familiar voice made her stiffen. “Ursula?”

She turned.

Heather, an old classmate from high school stood staring at her.

Ursula bit her inside cheek hard enough to taste blood.

“I thought you got into law school. You passed the exams, didn’t you?” Heather’s eyes scanned her from head to toe, judgment sharp in every glance.

“I did,” Ursula admitted quietly.

“Oh.” Heather’s lips twisted.

“Your mom couldn’t pay the fees… again? You had to reject it twice?” “Yes.”

Heather leaned closer.

“So… are you homeless now?”

“I’m fine,” Ursula forced out, jaw tight.

“Okay…See ya.” Heather shrugged and walked away, her pitying tone stabbing deeper than any insult.

Before Ursula could breathe, a shrill cry cut the air.

“Fire!”

She turned around.

Flames licked up the buildings on the street, smoke curling black into the sky.

The fire spread fast, too fast toward her mother’s salon.

“No!” Ursula screamed, running. “Please, somebody! My mother’s salon! Help me!”

But the fire roared louder, eating everything.

Firefighters shouted orders, hoses hissed, but it wasn’t enough.

Within minutes, the salon, their last hope was nothing but collapsing beams and smoldering ash.

Ursula fell to her knees, her chest tearing apart.

Why? Why us? What am I supposed to do now?What did I do to deserve this?

Thunder split the sky open.

Rain poured in sheets, cold and merciless.

People screamed, ran for cover, but Ursula stayed kneeling in the downpour.

Her clothes clung to her body, hair plastered to her face. Her tears disappeared into the storm.

Rain, wash it all away. Take my pain. Take my shame. Take everything, because I can’t keep carrying it alone.

Her mind paced back to when she used to play in the rain with Jared, back when life still held sweetness. She shook the memory away angrily.

Lightning flashed.

Wind howled, sending trash flying.

Something hard struck her cheek, a flying bucket lid. Pain stung, blood mixing with rainwater. She barely reacted.

“Hey!” a woman in a café across the street waved, gesturing for her to come inside.

Ursula forced herself upright, shivering violently.

Her legs felt like lead as she stepped into the road.

A blaring horn caught her attention.

She turned, blinded by twin beams of light.

A car tore down the street, water spraying under its tires.

It honked again, closer, faster. Ursula’s body froze.

Her feet wouldn’t move.

Her wide eyes locked on the headlights as the world seemed to slow, the storm muffling into silence.

It was too late.