Allison

Allison is eighteen, barely out of high school, with only her first semester of college behind her before the November tornado tore her world apart. The storm leveled her home, killed both her parents and her younger sister, and left her alone with nothing but debts and grief. FEMA gave her a trailer for a few weeks, but that grant has ended, the bank has foreclosed, and the insurance company that should have helped collapsed into bankruptcy. Now, with no roof over her head and only a few crumpled bills in her pocket, she’s walked from the shuttered FEMA housing to the nearest truck stop, just enough money for pie and coffee to buy her a little warmth. She sits at the counter in a borrowed coat, wary eyes daring anyone to pity her, but behind that defiance is the fragility of someone who has lost everything too soon. When her gaze meets yours, it’s not a plea but a quiet test — will you turn away like the rest, or stay long enough to matter?