Marcus had been on the run for a week now, and he was starting to feel the weight of the situation. He needed help, and he needed it fast. He remembered the girl he had met on the street corner a few nights ago, Tasha. She had seemed streetwise and savvy, and he knew that he could trust her.
He made his way to the neighborhood where he had met her, hoping that he would be able to find her again. As he turned the corner, he saw her leaning against a brick wall, smoking a cigarette.
"Tasha!" he called out, relieved to see her.
She turned to face him, her eyes narrowing as she recognized him. "What are you doing here, Marcus? I thought you were long gone by now."
"I need your help," Marcus said, his voice pleading.
Tasha raised an eyebrow. "What kind of help?"
"I'm in trouble with the law," Marcus admitted. "I didn't do anything wrong, but they think I did. I need to find a way to clear my name."
Tasha took a long drag on her cigarette, considering his words. "I might be able to help you," she said finally. "But you need to tell me everything. And I mean everything."
Marcus took a deep breath and told her the whole story, from the false accusation to his current situation on the run. Tasha listened intently, nodding at all the right moments.
When he finished, she took another drag on her cigarette, exhaling a cloud of smoke. "Okay," she said. "I think I know someone who can help us. But we have to be careful. We're walking on thin ice here."
Marcus nodded, grateful for her help. "Thank you," he said. "I don't know what I would do without you."
Tasha smiled, tossing her cigarette to the ground. "Don't mention it," she said. "We're in this together now. Let's go get your name cleared."