HARD DECISIONS

ARYA’S POV Three days after Marco gave me the black card, I found myself staring at it on my nightstand, untouched. I had used it once, to pay Mrs. Marta for the month's rent. The landlady had looked at the sleek black card with narrowed eyes but ran it through her ancient machine without comment. When the transaction went through, I felt both relieved and trapped. Since then, the card had sat there, a constant reminder that I was living off someone else's generosity. Cherry had noticed, of course. "You know you can use it for food, right?" She said yesterday, watching me count out the spare money he had given me for the cheapest pasta at the market. "That's literally what he gave it to you for." I nodded. "I know." "But you're not going to." She retorted. I looked at her and smiled tightly. "Not unless I have to." She sighed but hadn't pushed. She understood, in her way. The need to maintain some shred of independence, even when accepting help. But independence required income. Re