Chapter 47: A Glimmer of Hope.

The dim back room reeked of stale beer and desperation. She grimaced and carefully threaded her way through the gauntlet of battered folding tables, each one occupied by some new, fresh, and previously ravaged face subjected to the cruelties of life. God, she was so sick of the underbelly. Living amidst the refuse had taken its toll—every week that went by, she cut out another piece of her vanishing soul. How many more dens of iniquity could she endure before giving herself up completely to the void? Brushing aside that familiar spiral of despair, she moved on toward the shadows swallowing the back room alcove. Only a greasy bead curtain separated the two, though she knew better than to simply barge through unannounced. "It's me," she called in a low rasp, rapping her knuckles against the water-stained particle board. "Got a minute?" For a handful of agonizing heartbeats, it remained undisturbed; part of her already braced for the familiar crush of rejection, the ennui that soul-le