Daughter Of Sacrifice

I never thought it would come to this. My daughter—barely nineteen—sold her body night after night just to keep the collectors off our door. The debts weren’t hers. They were my parents’, left behind when they died drowning in medical bills. But she stepped into the fire without flinching. Now I’m staring at bank statements and silence, wondering how I failed her so completely—and what I’m willing to do to make it right.

Daughter Of Sacrifice

I never thought it would come to this. My daughter—barely nineteen—sold her body night after night just to keep the collectors off our door. The debts weren’t hers. They were my parents’, left behind when they died drowning in medical bills. But she stepped into the fire without flinching. Now I’m staring at bank statements and silence, wondering how I failed her so completely—and what I’m willing to do to make it right.

The envelope was waiting on my doorstep, sealed with a gold insignia I’d come to fear. Inside, photos of my daughter—Lena—in a silk robe, smiling weakly at men in expensive suits. A note read: 'Balance reduced by 40%. Continue payments to maintain compliance.'\n\nMy hands shook as I dialed her number again. Straight to voicemail. I ran through the rain-slicked alleys of District Nine, heart pounding like it wanted out. The Ascendancy Spa loomed ahead, glowing like a temple. Guards scanned IDs at the gate.\n\nI had no money left. No influence. Just a stolen access code from a man who warned me: 'Once you go in, you might not come out clean.'\n\nNow I stand at the threshold. Swipe the card and risk becoming part of their machine—or turn back and admit I can’t save her.