Lena sat at the back of the lecture hall, her notebook filled with hastily sketched designs rather than class notes. The professor's voice droned on about color theory, but Lena's mind was elsewhere—on deadlines, part-time jobs, and the ever-growing mountain of bills. She loved her graphic design major, but it was a miracle she could attend this school, seeing her situation.
The seat beside her was empty. It usually was. Most students in this class had fancy laptops, tablets, and the luxury of time to focus on their projects. Lena? She had old textbooks and three part-time jobs.
"Alright, that's all for today," the professor finally announced, jolting Lena from her daydream. "And remember, the logo design assignment is due next week. No extensions."
A quiet groan escaped her. Another deadline. She gathered her things, shoving her worn sketchbook into her tattered backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. The other students filtered out, chatting about weekend plans, internships at fancy studios, and their parents' latest vacations. Lena kept her head down, weaving through the crowd, unnoticed.
As she stepped outside into the crisp autumn air, she made a quick stop to tie her scuffed sneakers. Her phone buzzed with a reminder: Shift at the café in 30 minutes.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she muttered, as if the phone could hear her.
On her way to the café, she passed a familiar sight—a small stray dog sitting on the steps of the college's main library. His golden fur was matted, and he wagged his tail enthusiastically as Lena approached.
"Hey, Teddy," she whispered, crouching down to give him a scratch behind the ears. "No luck finding you a home, huh?"
The dog leaned into her touch, his big brown eyes full of trust. She pulled out a half-eaten sandwich from her bag and broke it into pieces, offering it to him.
"There you go, buddy. I'll see if I can bring you something better tomorrow," she said softly, standing up. She sighed. If only she could afford to take him in. But her tiny apartment didn't allow pets, and the rent alone was a struggle.
The café wasn't far from campus. A cozy place with mismatched furniture and the constant smell of coffee beans, it was Lena's second home. She spent so much time there it felt like she lived more at work than at her apartment.
"Lena! You're late," called her boss, Jess, a kind but perpetually stressed woman in her mid-40s, with bright pink glasses perched on her head.
"Sorry, Jess!" Lena hurried behind the counter and threw on her apron. "The professor wouldn't stop talking about hue saturation. How's the crowd today?"
"Not too bad," Jess replied with a shrug. "The usual rush. Oh, and don't forget to mop the backroom before you leave tonight."
Lena nodded, already scanning the café for customers to serve. A group of college students sat in the corner, laughing and working on some group project. They looked effortlessly well-put-together, with shiny MacBooks and designer bags. Lena served them with a smile, but their world seemed so far from hers. While they discussed internships at agencies, Lena was thinking about how to stretch her paycheck for rent and groceries.
The hours slipped by as Lena juggled taking orders, making drinks, and cleaning tables. She was exhausted by the time her shift ended, but there was still one more task before she could head home: tutoring. Every Wednesday night, she helped a high school student with art lessons. It wasn't much, but every extra dollar counted.
As she left the café, her tired eyes caught a glimpse of the college's massive gates, glowing under the streetlights. They always looked grand, like an entryway to some other world—a world where money didn't dictate your every decision. But as her footsteps echoed in the quiet night, Lena knew that world wasn't hers. Not yet, at least.
A soft meow broke her thoughts. A small tabby cat was lounging by the corner, rubbing against a lamppost. Lena smiled.
"Hey, Cleo," she greeted, squatting down. "Did you come to keep me company?"
Cleo purred in response, winding around Lena's legs. The cat belonged to no one but was a constant presence around the neighborhood, much like Teddy.
"You two would make great friends," Lena said with a chuckle, giving Cleo a quick pat before continuing on her way. "When I'm rich, I'll open a pet café for both of you."
By the time Lena reached her cramped apartment, the sky had darkened. The small space was modest—just enough for a bed, a desk, and her stack of unfinished art projects. She tossed her backpack onto the floor and collapsed onto the bed. Her body ached, but her mind buzzed with a mixture of worry and ideas for her latest assignment.
Just as she was about to pick up her sketchbook, her phone rang. The name Alice flashed on the screen, followed by a message notification.
Alice: "Girl, you are NOT gonna believe this. Call me asap!"
Curiosity piqued, Lena hit the call button. Alice answered on the first ring.
"Lena! I just found the perfect job for you."
"Is it legal?" Lena asked, only half-joking.
Alice laughed. "Better. It's weird, but it's real—and the pay? Insane."
Lena raised an eyebrow, sitting up on the edge of her bed. "Okay, now you've got my attention. What's the catch?"
"There's no catch! Well… unless you're scared of cemeteries."
Lena froze. "Cemeteries? What kind of job are we talking about?"
"Just check your phone. I sent you the link to the offer with the details. But seriously, you need to apply. They're offering so much money, it's like a dream gig."
"Alright, I'll take a look. Thanks, Alice," Lena said, hanging up.
Her phone buzzed again as Alice sent over the link. Lena's eyes widened at the numbers. The pay was more than generous—it was nearly triple what she made between all her part-time jobs combined. She could pay a whole month's rent and still have leftovers.
She hesitated for a moment, her heart racing as she scrolled through the job description. It was vague, mentioning tasks at a local cemetery like "grave cleaning" and some "maintenance." Sounded easy enough.
As she looked closer at the details, a strange chill settled in her stomach, though she couldn't say why. The job description seemed harmless—mostly—but there was a nagging sense of unease she couldn't shake. Lena exhaled and rubbed her eyes. The money was just too good to pass up.
The fine print at the bottom flickered in the dim light of her apartment, too small for her tired eyes to make out clearly. She didn't bother to read it.
"Grave cleaning…" Lena muttered to herself. "Sounds like an easy job."
With one last glance at the salary, Lena clicked the application link and fell asleep.