The man, a heavyset guy with a graying beard, didn’t look up. “Kiosk only for card reloads. I just sell new ones.”
She held a promise.
The words blinked on the small screen, a red accusation. reload septa key card
Insufficient Fare. Please reload.
She thought of Marcus. He’d be waiting at the afterschool program until 7 p.m., the last one there, his small face pressed against the grimy window. She’d promised him pizza tonight—the cheap kind from the place on their block. A promise that now tasted like ash in her mouth. The man, a heavyset guy with a graying
Lena walked to the bench by the wall and sat down. Her ankle screamed. She pulled out her phone, the screen cracked but still glowing. She opened her bank app. Balance: -$12.34. Overdraft. The universe, she thought, had a sick sense of humor. The words blinked on the small screen, a red accusation
She could call her sister, Tanya. Ask for five bucks to be Venmo’d. But Tanya had already paid for Marcus’s school supplies last month. The ledger of favors in her family was already bleeding red.