It’s to be expected. No big deal. Nothing to get all worked up over, that’s for sure.” Jenna stared pointedly at her little sis.
Bea’s shoulders slumped as she shook her head. “I appreciate your op-op-op—”
“Optimism.”
“Optimism, but I think you ought to give the contract a sold read-through before you put your handprint on the docusign. I mean, just for good measure.”
“Don’t worry about me. Okay?” Jenna grasped her little sister by the shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “I promise I can handle myself around a bunch of Drokten. They’re different, but they’re not murderers or anything. Yes, they’re aliens, but they saved our planet from the Zignill. They’re the good guys.”
And also, the hot guys, but whatevs.
“Jenna! Really? Ew.”
She sighed and pretended she hadn’t outed herself as an alien-lover, and Bea did the same. Mostly. She got back to hassling her about signing the contract, at least.
“Look, I know you can handle yourself,” Bea murmured, with her tablet pressed to her chest. “You’re smart and you pay attention, but this contract… I’m telling you there’s something funky going on. I feel like you’ll be signing your whole life away.”
“Beatrice, you know I’m in no position to turn down a high-paying gig like this.” Jenna reminded her sternly. “Think about the number of credits this night’s work will bring in. Really think. This kind of money doesn’t come along every day. Bea, dollahz, lots and lots of dollahz.” And she lifted her hand, rubbing the tips of her fingers against her thumb.
Bea’s lips twitched and then returned to a frown. “Is it worth it?” she asked outright. “I know that sounds crazy con-con-considering our position, but have you thought about why it pays so much. Nobody would offer such generous pay unless it was a dangerous job.”
“Of course, it’s worth it. Come on, Bea. We need to help Noah,” Jenna replied, lowering her voice just in case their younger brother was within earshot. Their tiny apartment offered little privacy for hushed conversations.
Noah had been sick for a while, his lungs and throat perpetually inflamed. He constantly coughed and hacked, and his breathing was labored. He was able to still go to school, but Jenna knew if he missed any of his treatments, he could take a scary turn for the worse. The doctors had warned her many times that this wasn’t just asthma. This was a rare genetic disorder that, if left untreated, would severely shorten his life span. And Jenna wanted Noah to live a long and happy life. Hence, she worked her ass off.
Beatrice frowned. “Of course, I’m thinking about Noah. But is this the best way to help him? Really?”
Jenna turned off the curling iron and set it aside before grabbing the mascara to lightly apply it to her lashes. She leaned closer to the mirror so she could see better. “This gig will pay for this month and next month’s lung treatments and then some. Imagine that—having money left over. How often does that happen?”
Beatrice appeared exhausted and a little beaten. Her shoulders curled down and she looked haggard—far beyond her fourteen years. “Not often.”
“It never happens.” Jenna turned away from the mirror and tugged down on her starchy, pristine-white catering blouse. “There’s only me taking care of you now. I’m the responsible adult here who has to make sure you and Noah have what you need. Which is why I have to go through with this. Despite whatever weird stuff it says in that contract.”
Bea opened her mouth to protest again but was interrupted by the tinny sound of the door chime.
Jenna’s face soured with distaste. She already knew who was at the door. She’d hoped Jade, her best friend, could watch the kids tonight, but it turned out they were both working the same event, so…she’d had to go with plan B. “That’ll be Ms. Carmine,” she murmured as she breezed past Bea.
“I don’t see why we need her.” Beatrice hissed as she followed Jenna to the front door. “I’m fourteen now. I could totally be a sitter.”
Jenna ignored her and by the time they reached the door, Noah was already pressing his hand to the palm pad to let Ms. Carmine into the apartment.
Jenna adopted a forced smile and noticed Bea was doing the same.
Ms. Carmine stepped inside, clutching her bag in front her of her with long, claw-like, bottle-green nails. Her dark eyes scanned the entryway, small den, and tiny kitchen and it was clear she disapproved of everything she saw.
“Good evening,