Luna Queen

The smell of stale coffee and disinfectant clung to the air of Wendy's Diner, a scent Sativa had come to associate with her new, miserable existence. Her fingers, grubby from scrubbing, ached as she wiped down another sticky table. Days had turned into months since her parents' murder, and the accusations still echoed in her ears, louder than the clatter of plates or the incessant ringing of the bell above the door.

Twelve thousand dollars in compensation for Milly, four thousand for the Pack, and a staggering three hundred and fifty thousand for her parents' ceremony. The debt was a cage, trapping her in this dingy diner, labeled a murderer by the very community that once adored her.

"Clean up," the old waitress, Java, sneered, her eyes raking over Sativa with a familiar disdain. "And, God help you if you try anything funny."

Sativa muttered a tired 'Goodnight,' her lips cracked from forced smiles, the resentment a bitter taste in her mouth. She was nothing now, a pariah, her VisaCard maxed out, her future stolen. Yet, a tiny spark of defiance flickered within her. She hadn't killed her parents, and she wouldn't rest until the truth was unearthed, no matter the cost.