Kelly had a favorite mantra: "Release the savior complex, and honor the path of others." It was a line she practiced most religiously on me. That day, I’d just stepped through the door after a grueling graveyard shift when my neighbor began pounding on the door like a maniac. She screamed that my son, Toby, had been dangling from the balcony railing for nearly an hour. He’d cried himself hoarse, she said, and she’d been banging on the door for twenty minutes with no answer. I lunged into the living room and saw my world ending. Toby was hanging over the edge, his small fingers white-knuckled on the iron bars, his face a terrifying shade of purple. He couldn’t even scream anymore; he was just gasping, a silent, rhythmic wheeze of pure terror. And Kelly? She was stretched out on a lounge chair on the balcony, soaking up the sun with her eyes closed. Blood roared in my ears. I hauled my son back over the railing, my voice cracking into a jagged shriek as I demanded to know if she was blind—if she hadn’t realized Toby was seconds away from a six-story plummet. She didn't even flinch. She just turned her head, gave a languid, innocent shrug, and said that if Toby fell, it was simply the universe’s design. She was a mere mortal, she claimed; who was she to interfere with his "spiritual contract"? This wasn't her first brush with this brand of sociopathic "zen." The year I applied for college, I was on track for Columbia. Someone broke into my portal and changed my choice to a predatory, bottom-tier community college. Kelly found out who did it and didn't say a word. When the acceptance letter arrived from a school I hadn’t even chosen, I nearly threw myself off a roof. When I confronted her later, she just smiled that serene, empty smile. She told me that "interfering in someone else's karma" would bring a heavy energetic debt onto her own soul. She wasn't willing to gamble her peace for my future. I spiraled into a deep clinical depression. I couldn't retake the year. I floated through that subpar college like a ghost. Then came my fiancé. Weeks before the wedding, Kelly saw him in a car, mid-makeout with another woman. She kept it to herself. A year after Toby was born, the man’s "real" wife showed up at my office. She screamed that I was a home-wrecker, attacking me until my face was a mask of blood. I was fired for "moral turpitude." The man vanished. Toby and I were evicted. When I asked Kelly if she’d known, she just pursed her lips and said it was my "emotional debt" to pay. She couldn't get in the way of my growth. Eventually, I found a dead-end job stocking shelves at a grocery store, working double shifts just to keep us fed. 1 My neighbor and I finally pulled a limp, shuddering Toby into the house. He collapsed into my arms, shaking like a leaf, and finally let out a soul-shattering wail. The neighbor was ghostly pale. "June, I was out on my balcony taking down the laundry, and I saw him slip through the gap! If his shirt hadn't snagged on that wire, he’d be... God, it’s the sixth floor!" She wiped her forehead. "I pounded on your door for twenty minutes! Thank God you're home." I knew the truth. Kelly had been home the whole time. The rage broke over me like a tidal wave. I spun around and slapped Kelly across the face with everything I had left. "Have you lost your goddamn mind?" I hissed. "Toby is your nephew! You sat there and watched him die!" Kelly gasped, clutching her reddening cheek. Then, she shoved me back, her voice rising to a shrill, piercing pitch. "So what if he's my nephew? You don't interfere with karma, June! If you do, you take on their debt! Don't you get it?" She glared at me. "If I had pulled him up and shifted his destiny, who pays the price? Not me. I’m not dying for anyone else’s mistakes." I let out a harsh, jagged laugh. When we were kids—Kelly was seven—she’d fallen into the creek during a flash flood. She’d screamed for me to save her. I hadn't hesitated. I’d jumped into waist-deep, churning water and hauled her to the bank, nearly drowning myself in the process. Where was the "karma" then? The year she got into university, our parents couldn't afford the tuition. She’d knelt at my feet, sobbing, begging me to help. So I took classes by day and worked three jobs by night, even pulling shifts at a freezing warehouse during winter break to scrape together four years of her tuition. Where was the "debt" then? I looked at my sister, and the last flicker of love I had for her went cold. The front door swung open. My mother and my brother-in-law, Dave, walked in carrying bags of groceries. Mom took one look at the tension in the room and froze. "What on earth is happening?" The neighbor didn't hold back. "Your younger daughter watched her nephew hang off the balcony and didn't lift a finger. Stone-cold heart, that one." My mother’s face shifted, looking uncomfortable. She glanced at me, then looked away, stammering. "June... honey, I think... Kelly might have a point." I couldn't believe my ears. "A point?" "I saw a video on Facebook the other day," Mom said, avoiding my gaze. "A man stepped in to stop a fight, and the aggressors followed him home and killed his whole family. Sometimes, getting involved is just asking for trouble..." "Mom!" I cut her off. "This isn't a stranger! This is Toby! Her sister's son! You’re calling that 'getting involved'?" Mom rubbed her nose and scurried into the kitchen. Dave, standing by the door, let out a dry, mocking chuckle. "Look, June," he said, drawling the words. "Is it possible Kelly just couldn't handle two kids at once? Our Mia is only two. She needs constant eyes on her." I was trembling so hard I could barely stand. "What are you trying to say?" Dave shrugged. "This place is cramped as it is. We were doing you a favor letting you and Toby crash here. If you’re going to be this dramatic, maybe Toby should just go back to his father. Right?" Kelly let out a small, cruel giggle. "Exactly. I don't really want Mia growing up around a fatherless brat anyway." The blood rushed to my head. Toby clutched my leg, sobbing harder. "Mommy, I'm not a brat! I'm not!" I held him tight, my heart breaking, feeling utterly powerless in the house of people who wished we didn't exist. Then, my eyes drifted to the window, looking down at the courtyard below. Near the playground slide, an elderly woman was stooping down, smiling at a toddler. The little girl had two messy pigtails and was wearing a bright pink sundress. It was Mia. Kelly’s daughter. The old woman pulled a piece of candy from her pocket and popped it into Mia’s mouth. While the child was distracted, the woman scooped her up, turned, and began walking briskly toward the gate. A scream surged up my throat—but I swallowed it. I watched as the pink dress bobbed further and further away under the woman's arm. After all, I wouldn't want to interfere with anyone’s destiny, would I? 2 A moment later, Dave’s voice cracked through the apartment. "Where’s Mia?" Kelly blinked, startled. "She’s in the bedroom, napping." "The hell she is!" Dave yelled, storming out of the back room, his face white. "The bed is cold! Where is she?" They stood there for a beat, paralyzed, before they exploded into motion. They tore through the bedrooms, the bathroom, the kitchen, checking closets and looking under beds. She was gone. Kelly ran back into the living room, her face drained of color. She lunged at Toby, grabbing him by the collar and shaking him. "Did you see her? Did you see your sister?" Toby whimpered, his lips trembling, unable to squeeze out a single word. I shoved Kelly’s hands off him. "Why are you asking him? He was dangling off a railing all afternoon. How the hell would he have seen her?" Dave was already grabbing his keys. "Downstairs! Now! She learned how to work the deadbolt last week—she must have slipped out!" Kelly bolted after him, but stopped at the door, screaming back at me, "June! Get down there and help us!" I stayed put, pulling Toby close as I walked toward our small corner of the room. "I think I’ll pass," I said coldly. "I’ve decided to start respecting the path of others." The words had barely left my mouth when a stinging blow landed across my face. My mother stood over me, her finger jabbed into my nose, her eyes wild with fury. "We are a family! There is no 'them' and 'us'!" she shrieked. "Mia is your niece! You watched her being born! Do you have a single shred of a soul left?" I cupped my burning cheek. Minutes ago, she’d nodded along while Kelly explained why my son’s life didn't matter. She’d called it "asking for trouble." Now that it was Mia, she’d rediscovered the concept of family. Kelly spat at me, "If you don't help find her, take your brat and get the hell out of my house. Today." I bit my lip. My reputation in the accounting world was trashed thanks to my ex. I was making peanuts at the grocery store. After paying my mom "rent" and Toby’s daycare, I had nothing. I couldn't afford a deposit on a closet, let alone an apartment. I grabbed Toby’s hand and followed them out. The complex was crawling with people. Kelly was manic, lunging at strangers, grabbing their arms. "Have you seen a little girl? Two years old? Pink dress?" People recoiled. Some shook her off without a word; others rolled their eyes and snapped, "Do I know you?" I watched them and felt a grim sense of irony. Over the years, Kelly had made an enemy of every neighbor. When the woman upstairs was struggling with heavy groceries, Kelly watched her stumble and cited "honoring her struggle." When the elderly lady downstairs fell, Kelly refused to call 911 because "interfering with an injury brings bad luck." When the neighbor across the hall forgot her keys, Kelly wouldn't let her use the phone, telling her to "own her own consequences." I almost wanted to laugh. Kelly collapsed onto the sidewalk, wailing into her hands. That’s when Toby tugged on my hand. "Mommy," he whispered loudly. "The baby is over there." 3 We looked where he was pointing. The old woman from earlier was crouched on the grass near the edge of the parking lot, frantically patting Mia’s back. Mia was thrashing in her arms, her face a terrifying shade of bruised red, her little legs kicking at the air. I froze. Was she not a kidnapper? Just a bystander? Kelly had already spotted them. "Mia! Mommy’s here!" The old woman jumped, clutching her chest in feigned or real shock. "Oh, thank God! You parents are so reckless! This poor thing was running toward the street all alone!" She shoved the struggling child into Kelly’s arms and turned to leave. But she was jerked back. Mia’s tiny hand was clamped around the woman’s thick gold necklace, refusing to let go. The woman didn't hesitate. She unhooked the clasp, shoved the heavy gold chain into Kelly’s hand, and hissed, "Keep it. A gift for the girl. I’m in a hurry!" Then she turned and bolted toward the street. Kelly stood there, stunned, looking at the glittering gold in her palm. Her grief vanished instantly, replaced by a greedy, hysterical glow. Dave and my mother huddled around her, their eyes wide. "Oh my god," Kelly breathed, her voice filled with a sickening triumph. "I knew it. Mia is a child of destiny! She wanders off and brings home gold!" She shot a nasty look at me. "Better than some little 'unlucky' brats. Some kids are just anchors dragging everyone down. They’d be better off gone." I didn't answer. I was watching the old woman disappear around the corner. She was practically sprinting. And Mia... Mia wasn't crying. She was turning blue. She was gasping for air, her eyes bulging. A memory flashed in my mind. A poster at the grocery store. "Wait!" I yelled. Kelly, busy kissing the gold chain, snapped at me. "What now?" I started running toward the street, toward the woman. "Something is wrong! That woman—" Kelly grabbed my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "You just want the gold for yourself, don't you? You want your little brat to have it! Well, he doesn't have the luck!" My mother stepped in too, grabbing a handful of my hair. "Shut up! You’ll make her come back for the chain!" I shook them off. "Are you blind? Who gives away a gold chain to a stranger? She’s running!" I broke into a sprint toward the gate. I didn't get five feet before Kelly kicked me square in the back. I slammed into the pavement. Pain exploded in my face as my nose hit the concrete. Before I could crawl away, Dave’s fist came down on the back of my head. "Bitch! Mind your own business! Stop ruining our luck!" Toby was screaming, "Don't hurt my mommy!" Kelly didn't even blink. She swung a foot into Toby’s ribs. "Shut up, you little mistake! One more word and you’re next!" I stayed on the ground, blood pouring from my nose, and fumbled for my phone. I dialed 911. I remembered the poster now. The face on the "Most Wanted" flyer at the store. That woman was a notorious child trafficker. And then, my mother’s scream ripped through the air. "Mia! Mia, what’s wrong? MIA!" My heart stopped. I looked up. Mia was in my mother’s arms. Her face was dark purple. Her eyes were fixed, staring at nothing. Her little hand relaxed, and a handful of hard, round candies spilled out onto the grass. The "gift" hadn't been gold. It had been a distraction. Mia had choked on the candy, and the "kind lady" had fled the moment the child started dying in her arms.
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