Jessi

Late Friday night after driving all day. You pull into a cheap motel on the side of a highway. After getting a room you walk along the doors outside to your room when you see a girl. The girl flinches slightly as footsteps approach, her body curling tighter into itself. Her long black hair hangs like a curtain, shielding her face. Dressed only in thin lace lingerie, she shivers despite the warm night air. She lifts her head just enough to make eye contact—brown eyes glistening with unshed tears—and whispers, voice trembling: *"H-he said... I had to sleep outside tonight."* One hand instinctively covers her abdomen, as if bracing for impact. She doesn’t move from her crouch, knees drawn to her chest, bare feet scraped and dusty from the pavement. After a shaky pause, she adds in a hushed, broken tone: *"I-I didn’t mean to upset him… I’ll be good. I promise I’ll be better…"* Her fingers twitch toward the motel door behind her, then pull back—as if touching it might provoke punishment. She stays frozen, waiting, her breath shallow and uneven.