A Grand For My Grave

Five years after my family erased my name from their legacy, I ran into my uncle at a private club downtown.
He was Marcus Blackwood, the guest of honor, a veritable godfather in this citys underworld, here to celebrate his fiances new venture in the Caribbean.
And I was just one of the girls paid to pour the drinks.
We didnt make eye contact the entire night. Not once. Not until a drunk client, a fleshy man with a diamond pinky ring, slapped a hunting knife flat on the table and pointed it at me.
Hey, you, he slurred, a cruel grin spreading across his face. Crawl around the floor for us. Bark a little. How about a grand for your trouble?
I didnt hesitate. My knees hit the cold marble floor.
As whistles and jeers echoed in the smoky VIP lounge, I closed my eyes and barked.
When I finished the circle, I used a nearby wall to pull myself to my feet. Thats when I heard my uncles voice, a low sneer that cut through the noise.
Youd rather be a dog in here than go back and apologize to Isabelle? he said. Lila Rhodes, youve got some goddamn nerve.
I managed a hollow smile and held out my palm.
One thousand dollars, I said. Cash or Venmo?
The years of bitterness, the ancient history between us, had long since faded into ash. But that thousand dollarsit was the exact amount I needed for the final payment on my urn.
1
The room fell silent for a beat. Every eye was on me, a dozen different kinds of judgment in their gaze. Then, someone snickered.
On the leather couch across the room, my uncles knuckles whitened around his whiskey glass. His face was a mask of dark fury. He was ashamed. Embarrassed.
In his world, a thousand dollars was pocket change, not even enough to tip one of his enforcers. And here I was, his niece, debasing myself for it.
His fiance, Isabelle Croft, toyed with a diamond earring, her voice dripping with amusement. Marcus searched for you for five whole years, and this is where you end up? Learning to bark for strangers? You may not want the Blackwood name, darling, but he still does.
I lifted my gaze to meet hers. Theres no shame in earning a living. At least Im not on my back to do it.
A corner of her red-painted mouth twitched. Are you that desperate for money? Tell you what. Do two more laps. If Im entertained, Ill add another two thousand.
The room erupted. The bet was on.
If Miss Croft is putting up two grand, so am I! someone shouted.
Ill throw in another thousand!
I didnt hesitate. I was about to drop to my knees again when the door to the lounge was thrown open. The club manager scurried in, bowing and scraping. He grabbed my arm, shoving me against the wall before turning to Marcus with an apologetic smile.
Mr. Blackwood, sir. My apologies. This girl is new, she doesnt know the rules. If shes disturbed you
Are you going to crawl for her? Marcuss voice was ice. He crushed his cigar into an ashtray, his eyes as dark and cold as a winter lake.
A bead of sweat trickled down the managers temple. He was terrified of me getting killed on his property, but he was more terrified of the man on the sofa. Its its a demeaning game, sir. A grown man would have trouble with it, let alone a young woman
Then get the hell out! Marcus roared, kicking the heavy coffee table over with a violent crash. He pulled a thick stack of cash from his jacketten grand, at leastand hurled it at the manager. Lila crawls tonight! You try to stop it again, and Ill burn this shithole to the ground.
The manager scrambled to scoop up the bills, his face splitting into a grotesque, greedy grin. He forgot I existed, muttered a thank you, and vanished.
All eyes returned to me.
Marcuss lips twisted into a cruel smile. Whats the matter? Dont you want the money anymore?
My face was a blank mask. I sank to the floor and began to crawl toward the laughing crowd. The chill of the marble seeped through my thin dress, into my knees. The two shots of whiskey Id choked down earlier churned in my stomach like acid.
I saw Marcuss knuckles turn bone-white.
As I forced a third, trembling bark from my raw throat, he was suddenly there, his hand clamping around my wrist like a steel trap. Lila, are you trying to fucking kill yourself?!
I need the money, I rasped, wrenching my arm free and continuing to crawl.
But before I could make another sound, a boot slammed into my side, sending me skidding across the floor.
Crack.
My forehead connected with the sharp corner of a side table. Stars exploded behind my eyes, and a spray of blood and cold sweat hit the polished floor.
Marcus hauled me up by the collar of my dress, his face inches from mine, his voice a furious roar. Youd throw away your dignity for money? Is that all you care about? He shoved me away from him. Youll never see a single cent from me!
Humiliation burned through me, a white-hot fire. The neon lights of the bar blurred into a broken kaleidoscope. And a voice, buried for five years, roared in my memory:
For money, youd even sell the emerald signet ring your mother left you! Have I ever denied you anything? Why not just sell yourself while youre at it! Get out! From now on, I dont have a niece!
Five years ago, Isabelle had set me up. Shed stolen my mothers heirloom ring from my uncles study and pawned it, making it look like I was the thief.
Marcus had forced me to kneel in the pouring rain for three days and three nights, demanding to know where the ring was.
But how could I know?
I told him it was Isabelle. It was her plan to drive us apart, because she was jealous of the affection hed always shown me.
He didnt believe me.
Theft. Betrayal of family. Stubbornness. Three sins that shattered whatever warmth hed once held for me. Egged on by Isabelle, he cleared out my bank accounts and threw me out onto the street.
The first six months were bearable. I found a commission-based sales job, enough to get by. Then came the only call I received from Marcus in all those five years.
His first words were: Arent you ready to come home and admit you were wrong? Just tell me where the ring is, and Ill forgive you.
I was still fueled by pride then, by a stubborn, self-destructive anger. I told you, I didnt sell it! Why dont you ask your precious Isabelle! Shes the one who did it!
He hung up. The next day, I was fired. Blacklisted across the entire city.
Marcus had put the word out to every corner of his empire, legal and illegal: anyone who hired me was an enemy of the Blackwood family.
For years, I couldn't find a legitimate job. I drifted into the citys nightlife, a ghost in smoky bars and high-end clubs. It felt like he wanted me to see what Id lost. He paraded Isabelle everywhereto his backroom poker games, his casinos, his arms deals. He publicly declared that she would inherit everything that should have been mine. He showered her with gifts, dropping millions on a whim. The society pages were filled with pictures of them, smiling and powerful.
And I was in the gutter, drinking myself to death just to survive, until my body finally gave out. Stomach cancer.
The doctors appointments and prescriptions drained what little I had saved. Loan sharks came next, the interest compounding until the debt was an impossible mountain. Experimental drugs were a fantasy; chemotherapy, a distant dream.
Id tried calling him for help once. Id barely gotten the words out before he cut me off.
Money, money, money! Is that the only thing you can see? hed spat. You come back here, get on your knees, and admit what you did. Otherwise, you can die in the street before you get a penny from me.
That call extinguished the last flicker of hope I had left.
I was just so tired.
If he wanted me to die, then fine. I would die. At least then, the pain would stop.
A month ago, I put a deposit down on an urn.
I scraped together every dollar I could, but I was still a thousand short. The owner of the funeral home called almost daily. I thought tonight, finally, I could pay it off.
But my uncle, who could toss ten thousand dollars to a club manager without a second thought, wouldnt spare a single dollar for me.
He left with his entourage, leaving me in the wreckage.
I spent the next twenty minutes in the bathroom, vomiting until my entire body ached. Only one thought remained.
All that, for nothing.
My shift supervisor leaned against the doorframe, smoking a cigarette. How the hell did you piss off Marcus Blackwood? He looked like he was ready to kill someone. Whats the history between you two?
A fresh wave of pain seized my stomach. I gripped the edge of the sink to keep from collapsing.
No history, I said. Just a blood feud, I guess.
The next morning, my phone woke me. It was the man from the funeral home.
Miss Rhodes, when are you going to settle your balance? Its a thousand dollars. Are you really going to drag this out for over a month? His voice was rough with impatience. If you dont pay within three days, Im selling it to someone else. And youre not getting your deposit back.
Please, just give me a little more time, I begged, my voice hoarse. I get paid in two weeks, I can
Cant wait! he snapped. Ive never seen anything like it. Haggling over an urn. If you dont have the money, you shouldnt have picked out such an expensive one.
I wanted to argue, but the line was already dead.
My head throbbing, I called my manager to ask for an advance on my salary. His response was even more brutal.
Just so you know, you dont need to come in today. Or ever again.
And dont expect a final paycheck. Mr. Blackwood gave the order. We cant afford to cross him.
My voice trembled. Thats illegal. You cant just withhold my wages. Ill go to the labor board.
The manager laughed, a short, ugly sound. Go ahead! Sue us! Mr. Blackwood said hed cover any and all consequences. His legal team is the best in the country. If you want to walk into that buzzsaw, be my guest.
The line went dead again.
A knot of pressure built in my chest until I doubled over, a violent cough racking my body. I spat a mouthful of blood onto the white tile floor.
I stared at the bright, shocking red for a long moment before the tears finally came. I collapsed, the sobs tearing through me.
After a long while, I mechanically cleaned up the mess. I took out my painkillers and swallowed them dry. Then, completely spent, I slid to the floor, my back against the bed, and thought about the last five years.
Every single door that had opened for me, Marcus had slammed it shut. Every path Id tried to walk, he had personally destroyed.
Now, even the dregs of the city wouldnt have me.
Paying for painkillers was a struggle; paying for an urn was impossible. Eating was becoming a problem.
I just wanted a beautiful house to rest in when I died. What was so wrong with that?
I cried until the afternoon sun faded to gray, until I had no tears left, only a hollowed-out exhaustion. Staring at my trembling hands, I made a decision. I would go back to the Blackwood estate and demand an answer.
I had to know. Why? Why had he done this to me?
When I arrived, Marcus and Isabelle were having dinner. He glanced up, his expression unreadable. So, you decided to come back.
Why did you have me fired? I asked, my voice flat, ignoring his question completely. Five years. Havent you humiliated me enough?
He set down his fork, one eyebrow raised in detached amusement. A little hardship teaches you how warm the Blackwood roof is, Lila. Do you have any idea the kinds of things people say about you out there? If it wasnt for me keeping a lid on it
Isabelle swirled the red wine in her glass. She doesnt appreciate it, Marcus. Cant you see? Shes blaming you.
Shut up! I lunged across the space between us, my hand raised to strike her.
But an iron grip caught my wrist. Marcuss eyes were dangerously dark. Feeling brave, are we? It seems you still havent learned your place. His voice dropped to a whisper. Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to make you disappear?
My heart seized, as if his hand were squeezing it directly.
Make me disappear?
Isnt that what hed been doing for five years? Systematically destroying my jobs, my hopes, my will to live? I was worse off than a rat in the sewer, broken and sick, unable to even afford a final resting place.
I was done. I was so done with his threats.
I did nothing wrong! I screamed, the sound tearing from my throat. Fine, Marcus! If you wont let me live, then Ill die! Is that what you want? You cant rule me from hell, can you?
A vein pulsed in his temple. He shoved me violently, and I stumbled back, the corner of the heavy dining table digging into my lower back. The pain was explosive, and a cold sweat broke out over my entire body.
Marcus turned away, refusing to look at my pale, sweat-sheened face. Even in death, you will always be in my debt, he said, his voice cold and final. Until that ring is found, you dont even have the right to die.
With that, he walked out of the room.
I was in too much pain to get up. Isabelles stiletto heel pressed down on my fingers. You poor thing, she cooed. You look so pathetic. How about this? Kneel and bow your head to me three times, and Ill tell you where the ring is.
I stared at her, a burning hatred in my eyes. I wanted to rip her apart. But I knew I didnt even have the strength to slap her. Five years of humiliation, and now, even in my final days, I couldnt have a shred of dignity.
Marcuss words echoed in my head. Until that ring is found, you dont even have the right to die.
Fine.
If finding that ring would grant me peace, then I would find it.
I wiped the tears from my face, a wave of despair washing over me. I got to my knees and bowed my head to the floor, three times, the impacts jarring my already aching body.
Please, I whispered. Tell me where it is.
In the past, whenever shed schemed against me, Id fought back with everything I had. This time, I didn't even have the energy to argue. My submission seemed to bore her. She tossed a slip of paper onto the floor.
Heres the address. But whether you can get it back, Lila, thats on you.
Numbly, I picked it up. I found a city bike and rode to the address on the outskirts of town. It was a dusty, forgotten pawn shop. When I explained why I was there, the owner said nothing. He just looked at the note and retrieved the ring from a back room. Clearly, Isabelle had already called.
I felt nothing. No anger, no relief. I just wanted to give the ring to Marcus so we could be done with each other.
But as he was handing it to me, his hand suddenly went slack.
The emerald signet ring, my mothers ring, fell to the concrete floor and shattered.
I froze, the blood draining from my face.
Hey, kid, whats the big idea? the owner exclaimed. You gotta be more careful! This aint my fault.
Lila!
Marcuss furious roar exploded from behind me.
I whipped around and saw Isabelles triumphant smile as she clung to his arm.
I told you shed do it, Marcus! she cried. She hates you so much shed even destroy her own mothers memory! And to think you were actually going to forgive her!
Marcus didnt seem to hear her. His eyes were fixed on the glittering green shards on the floor. He walked forward slowly, stiffly, and knelt. For a long moment, he just stared. Then, piece by piece, he began to gather the broken emerald and gold, his large hand clenching around the sharp fragments.
It wasnt me! He dropped it! And I never sold it in the first place The words tumbled out of me, a frantic, desperate plea. Seeing him look so utterly defeated filled me with a panic I had never known.
He rose to his feet, his face a storm of rage and pain, and slapped me so hard I was thrown to the ground.
Slap!
I landed in a heap, my cheek burning, my stomach twisting in agony. The tears that came were involuntary, a pure physical reaction to the pain.
His chest heaved, his eyes bloodshot. Five years! I gave you every chance! I told you, just come back and admit you were wrong, and I would forgive everything! he bellowed. But what did you do? What did you do!
Lila, youre not worthy of the name Rhodes! And youre not worthy of calling me your uncle!
He was utterly disappointed in me, his voice raw with a pain so deep it was shocking. He had completely lost control.
My heart plummeted.
I could taste blood in my throat. I swallowed it down and whispered, my voice choked, What if what if I was really dying?
Who are you trying to fool? He glared at me with pure disgust, his fist so tight that blood began to seep between his fingers from the broken ring. You could drop dead right here, and I wouldnt even blink.
Okay, I said.
I clenched my own fists and shakily pushed myself to my feet. And in that moment, something inside me settled. A strange clarity.
I was going to die anyway.
The debts, the resentments, the betrayals none of it mattered anymore. If he truly believed I was the monster hed created, then so be it.
After I was gone, I would be nothing but a handful of dust. None of this would have any meaning.
A bitter smile touched my lips. I turned and walked out of the shop.
Where do you think youre going? he roared behind me. Are you determined to drive me to my grave?
I didnt look back. My voice drifted back to him, carried on the dusty air.
You dont have to die, I said. My death will be enough.
For the next two days, Marcus didnt contact me. He took the shattered ring to the best jewelers in the city, but they all told him the same thing: it could be pieced back together, but the cracks would always show. It would never be whole again. Looking at the flawed, ugly thing, he was consumed by a quiet, simmering rage.
On the first day, he held a press conference and publicly disowned me.
He stood before the cameras, his face cold and impassive. Whether Lila Rhodes lives or dies is no longer the concern of the Blackwood family. I will not intervene if she sells her body or begs on the street. Anyone who mentions her name in my presence will be considered my enemy.
The city was stunned.
On the second day, he took Isabelle to a formal family council. He named her his official heir.
One of his older cousins pulled him aside. Marcus, is this necessary? Lila is still your blood, your niece. Are you really going to push her to the absolute edge?
Marcuss lips thinned. The edge? Whats going to happen? Shes survived for five years, hasnt she? he said with a sneer. She doesnt have the guts to die. Shed be too ashamed to face her mother in the afterlife.
He was wrong again.
Because by then, I was already a ghost, floating beside him.
I had been dead for two days, my body at the bottom of the river near my apartment. The pain had just been too much. Death, for me, was a release.
What I didnt expect was that on the third day, Marcus received a phone call from the funeral home.
The man on the other end was shouting. Mr. Blackwood! Youre Lila Rhodess uncle, right? She listed you as her emergency contact, so dont even try to deny it! She ordered an urn, and theres still a thousand-dollar balance on it! Do you want it or not?

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