Maya sat across from a female detective in a small room at the precinct—gray walls, dusty fan, no windows. A quiet kind of pressure pulsed in the air.


Devin stood outside the door.


“I need you to walk me through how your name ended up connected to those transactions,” the detective said, voice even but firm.


Maya clasped her hands tightly. “I didn’t authorize anything. I never gave them permission. But… Darius had access to my info. He used to pay for things with my phone. I guess I trusted him more than I should’ve.”


The detective scribbled something down.


“You’re not the only one,” she said. “But you might be the only one ready to go on record.”


“I got a son,” Maya said. “He deserves to grow up free from all this. That’s why I’m here.”


The detective looked her in the eye. “You’re doing the right thing.”


Maya nodded. “Even if it doesn’t feel safe?”


The detective didn’t lie. “Especially then.”


Back outside, Devin was waiting, jaw tight, brows drawn.


“You sure you’re okay?” he asked.


Maya gave a tired smile. “No. But I’m done being scared.”


Devin looked like he wanted to say something more. Maybe about protection. Maybe about what they were to each other now. But he didn’t.


Instead, he nodded. “I’ll walk you to your car.”


As they crossed the lot, Maya’s phone buzzed.


Tia:

We got a problem. You need to come by the apartment—now.


Maya arrived home to find the door halfway open.


The lock had been busted.


Inside, drawers were pulled out. Her product shelves emptied. Her packaging supplies scattered across the floor.


She moved room to room, panic rising.


Zaire wasn’t there—thank God—but everything else was in chaos.


Tia was pacing the living room with her phone in hand. “I stepped out for twenty minutes. Just twenty. Came back and it was like this.”


Maya knelt down beside a tipped-over box. Inside, smashed tubes. Broken labels.


Her entire next launch… gone.


A note had been left on the mirror. The same Sharpie handwriting.


“Watch your mouth. Or we’ll take more than your gloss.”


Her hands shook.


But her voice didn’t.


“Call the police,” she told Tia. “And get Devin here. I’m pressing charges.”


Tia blinked. “You sure?”


Maya stood slowly, fire in her chest.


“I’m sure. I’ve lost too much already.”