Chapter 38

“Mary wasn’t the only one of us who could put someone in a fucking coma.”

The room is bitterly quiet as Layla lets the threat sink in. I stare her down, jaw set, hoping to appear tougher than I feel.

Fuck you, LaylaFuck you, you piece of shit.

“Speaking of which,” Rachel cuts in, “Sister Mary needs money for commissary. We have three hundred dollars that we made from the hat-pass and merch sales today, but we’ll need more. Can we make two hundred more happen from everyone in this room? Ten bucks from everyone would do it.”

The hat goes around the room. It’s church all over again. Except this time, I’m not brave enough to let the hat pass without putting anything in. Layla watches me as I shift gingerly to pull a crumpled and sweaty ten bill out of my back pocket and drop it into the growing pile of money, hoping that the small gesture will be enough to make Layla leave me alone.