The crisp stack of £400 felt heavier than it should have. Sarah held it in her hand, her heart thudding against her chest like a bass drum. She stared at the notes again, counting them not just with her fingers but with her thoughts. It wasn't just money—it was possibility.
She sat cross-legged on the cold floor of her bedroom that night, dividing the money carefully, one note at a time:
£100 for household groceries—a decent celebration meal, real meat, rice, fresh vegetables, and maybe even a bottle of malt for Mum.
£50 for clothes—nothing flashy, just tighter jeans, two tops that hugged her curves, and maybe boots, all bought from a tucked-away thrift store behind the market.
£100 for Mum's next medication refill.
£150 tucked deep inside the lining of her old handbag—for emergencies, or future upgrades.
She felt smart. Strategic. But that didn't mean her lies were easier to say.
She went on a shopping spree after work the next day and began to buy the necessary things.
Her mother looked at the food with a wide-eyed kind of joy. "Sarah… did they promote you?" she asked while unbagging the groceries.
Sarah forced a grin. "The family I babysat for last week? They liked me and called me to work for them more often. They're paying me weekly in advance now, just in case they need me urgently."
Mum paused, her hands clutching a loaf of bread. "God is answering our prayers."
Sarah nodded, not trusting herself to speak.
The clothes felt like another version of herself, one she wasn't ready to introduce at home. So she found a solution—a dusty, long-abandoned shop down the road from the restaurant. Broken windows, no electricity, but it was dry and forgotten. Perfect.
Before her shifts, she'd sneak in, pull her tighter clothes over her body, and reemerge as the version of Sarah that turned heads. She always changed back before going home, carefully folding her new identity behind a brick in the corner.
People noticed. Men tipped better. Vanessa, the queen of the restaurant, raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
Sarah's steps became surer. She met eyes longer. She smiled more. But inside, she still winced when her reflection caught her off guard.
One night, she dreamt she was walking into her house, dressed in one of her new tops, only to find her mother staring at her, face dark with disappointment. The twins were behind her, wide-eyed.
She woke up with a gasp, pressing her palm to her chest
The next evening, while staring at the empty ceiling in her room, she called Samson.
They've been talking for a while now and he has been asking her out
He picked on the second ring.
"I've thought about it," she said, trying to sound composed. "I'll meet you... but on my terms."
A low chuckle. "Feisty. Alright, let's hear them."
"You'll give me nothing less than 1000 quids whenever we meet, nobody should know what we're doing, we shall remain strangers outside and I get to leave when I want."
"You drive a hard bargain," he said. "I like it. I'll pick you up after your shift tomorrow. We'll talk more… privately."
Her stomach fluttered. "Okay."
She hung up and stared at the screen. Tomorrow. She'd made up her mind. She was going to let him have her—her body. It felt less like a choice and more like a trade. She didn't know if she was ready, but the mask she wore every day was starting to fit.
After her shift, he pulled up in a black Mercedes. Not the same car from last time.
He didn't take her to a hotel.
Instead, he drove through the outskirts of Birmingham, into a quiet area lined with gated houses and silence. They pulled into the driveway of a house she instantly knew wasn't his main home. It was too empty. Too prepared.
Inside, candles flickered, the smell of oud lingered in the air, and there was wine already open. He took her to the bedroom cause he's not one to waste time.
She turned to say something—nervous, unsure—when he walked over to the table, pulled open a drawer, and laid out £1,500 in crisp notes.
"Consider this a beginning," he said. "For our time together as long as you're mine to do anything I want I'll make sure you get everything you want okay"
She stared at the money, heat rising in her face. Her throat tightened then the thought hit her "it's about to happen" there's no going back for her now the thoughts of her mother and siblings suffering made her more determined to get it done.