That night, Mako slept with a rare sense of relief. After paying Mr. Daniels, their meager savings were depleted, but Mako could barely feel the sting. The weight of his sister's future seemed lighter now. Mr. Daniels had assured him that within two days, the apartment would be returned to them. The lawsuit was drafted, and once it was in Mr. Orji's hands, he would have no choice but to return the apartment—or face the consequences in court.
Mako shared the news with Mei, and for the first time in days, he saw a spark of hope in her eyes. Her mood lifted as if a weight had been taken from her shoulders, and they allowed themselves a quiet, tentative moment of peace in the motel room. Even though their situation hadn't changed drastically, the promise of a solution, however fragile, gave them both something to hold onto.
***
The next morning, Mako set out early to check on the progress of his case. The cool morning air didn't help calm the nerves that twisted in his stomach. He had to know how things were going, had to make sure that Mr. Daniels was on track with everything. His steps quickened as he approached the shabby office, but when he arrived, his heart sank.
The sign was gone. The office door, once unlocked with a creaky familiarity, was now shut tight.
Confused and instantly fearful, Mako hurried toward the entrance, hoping that maybe it was just a mistake, maybe Mr. Daniels had stepped out for a moment. He knocked sharply on the door, then waited, but there was no answer. His stomach churned. A bead of cold sweat slid down the side of his face, his heart hammering in his chest as he reached for the doorknob. It wouldn't budge.
He stepped back, taking in the empty office space. This didn't make sense. Where was the sign? Why was the door locked? The realization hit him like a punch to the gut—had Mr. Daniels taken off with his money?
The thought was so overwhelming that Mako could hardly breathe. He had already sacrificed so much for this, had taken the last of their savings and put it in the hands of someone who promised to help them. The room swayed around him, and panic crept up his throat.
But he forced himself to stay calm. He couldn't lose it now. Maybe Mr. Daniels was just busy or had an emergency. Mako's mind raced as he reassured himself with a single thought: *I'll check back in the evening. Everything will be fine. He's probably just indisposed.*
***
Later that evening, Mako rushed back to the office after work. His nerves were a bundle of raw energy, and with every step, his fear and hope collided. He had been holding onto that sliver of hope all day, telling himself that the situation would resolve itself. But as he rounded the corner and saw the office once again, his hope began to falter.
The sign was still gone.
His heart pounded in his chest as he knocked on the door, his hands trembling. The sound echoed hollowly in the silence that followed. There was no response. No movement from within.
Mako's stomach dropped, his mind racing. This wasn't just a delay. He'd been duped. The weight of that realization crushed him—he had been a fool. Mr. Daniels had taken his money and run. There was no hope left.
His breath hitched, and tears blurred his vision. He knocked harder, faster, his desperation mounting with each blow against the door. "Please, Mr. Daniels! Please!" he yelled, his voice raw and frantic.
The sound of his own voice seemed to fill the air, loud and dissonant, until it attracted the attention of someone from the building. A woman in a thin, sweat-soaked gown appeared at the door, her expression sour as she eyed Mako.
"Do you want to bring the whole place down?" she snapped, her voice sharp with irritation.
Mako wiped his eyes quickly, trying to steady his voice. "I'm looking for the lawyer—Mr. Daniels. Do you know where he is?"
The woman clicked her tongue, clearly unamused. "You won't find him here. He came in this morning, packed up all his things, and left. Moved out, just like that." She shook her head, adding, "I thought it was kinda odd, but I didn't care enough to do anything about it."
The world around Mako seemed to blur. His stomach dropped so low it felt as though it might just fall out of him. *Gone.* Mr. Daniels was gone. With his money. Everything they had left was now gone, taken by a man who had promised to help him, and now they were back at square one.
The woman watched him for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she took in his shaking frame. "You okay? You're acting real strange," she asked, though the concern in her voice felt distant, like a passing afterthought.
Mako blinked rapidly, trying to clear the burning tears from his eyes, but he couldn't fight the overwhelming sense of betrayal. His voice was barely a whisper as he spoke. "No. No, I'm not okay."
Before he could say anything else, the woman's lips twisted into a sneer. "So that's what this is about. You came to beg." She scoffed, then turned away, the door slamming shut behind her with a finality that felt like a slap in the face.
Mako stood there, frozen, staring at the door as his mind tried to process the crushing reality. Of course, no one would help him. No one cared. No one ever did. People like him, people who had nothing, were always left to rot in the corners of the world.
*If it were someone famous,* he thought bitterly, *if it were someone rich and important, she would have given them that $20 in a heartbeat.*
The world wasn't fair. It never had been.
Mako turned away from the door, the cold night air biting at his skin. He stumbled back down the street, thoughts swirling in a blur of frustration and anger. *Why is the world so unfair? Why are people like Mr. Orji, and Mr. Daniels, and all the corrupt politicians—why do they get away with it? Why do they always get away with it?*
The world would be a better place without them, Mako thought. The men who took from the poor, who lined their pockets with money they didn't deserve. The politicians who promised change but only built empires of greed while the people they were supposed to help rotted in poverty.