Layla’s pov

My heart was thumping in my chest with an uneven beat. My hands reach out for the door and opened it quickly.

Finally, I can breathe. Running home was such a workout.

| gasp for a lungful of air, tempted to throw my bag on the floor and just call it a day. But then my eyes roamed around the area and noticed for the first time, she wasn’t on the chair passed out.

My brows knit as I closed the door.

How long had it been since I last seen my mom off the chair when I got home?

“Mom?” I called out to her, kicking off my converse and kicking them to the side.

There was no answer.

Maybe she did go job searching after all?

My eyes snap to the clock mounted on the wall, just beside the hanging flowers. It read three thirty but I knew it read wrong. It needed new batteries.

Shaking my head I gripped my bag and made my way down the small hallway. My legs nearly feeling like butter as my eyes sweep over to the opened bathroom door.

Was she in there? Did something happen to her?

With my mom’s choices, I knew that there was a possibility that she’ll go too far one day. That something bad can happen to her. I just only hope today wasn’t that day.

“Mom?” I called out again, this time softer, almost fearful even.

My stomach knotted, expecting to probably see my mother on the floor knocked out cold or in the tub suffocated by water in her lungs.

at least hope for the best but my mother was unpredictable and wouldn’t care

hands tremble as it brushed the doorframe and I

to her room, this time

I get to her door, the stronger the stench of weed became, and the more I wanted to walk away

to her door. It’s slightly opened and from what I can see from the slight crack, the entire room is

open praying that the smell won’t affect my lungs. But as I do so, I’m slapped in the face

Mom chirped. Which is unusual for her to

naked body with a flimsy sheet. And right beside her, smoking what I presume was weed was a man who looked to be in

judging by his blonde roots. His face wasn’t clean shaven and he was obviously a man who you’d

mom didn’t

he smirked. This wasn’t the first time inom brought someone over. She usually did

I asked, nervously removing my gaze

39

out.

at the man she just gave her body to and then back to me before she giggled. “I

bag?” She asked nudging her head to the

my cheek before responding. “It’s nothing. Just a few things Tif

“Oh.” She nodded.

eyes on me, burning through me. His stare

who had just come out of jail. And knowing my mom’s taste in men, he

my room if you need me,” I told

better, been better

around to leave but her voice

worry about the bills for this month, Neymar has promised to pay

Not that I wanted to know. He

turned around, my fist balling at my sides. As if I’d ever let a man I don’t even

I’m going to get a

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