Lia had spent her whole life calculating the cost of things not just in money, but in time, energy, and sacrifice. It was the kind of math you learned early when your mother worked double shifts, your school shoes came from the church box, and dinner sometimes meant toast with tea.

But this morning, something had come without cost.

Or so it seemed.

She sat at the chipped dining table, the morning heat already making the walls sweat. Her phone buzzed softly beside her, the screen still glowing.

> *We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected…*

She read it again. And again. Her heart pounded each time.

It was real.

The job—**her** job—was real.

Finance assistant. Multinational firm. Country K. Full relocation package. Visa included. Housing covered. A starting salary that could pay their rent five times over.

For a girl from Country Z, from this **street**, that kind of offer didn’t come by accident. Or luck. It came from years of relentless effort**and numbers that shattered every record** her university had seen in three decades.

Lia had graduated top of her class in Finance, a full scholarship kid at the best university in the country, her name whispered in classrooms and printed in the local papers. “The daughter of a nurse,” they said, “who outscored the minister’s son.”

And now she was leaving.

Probably.

Hopefully.

Maybe.

The front door creaked open. Lia’s hand snapped the phone screen off as her mother stepped into the kitchen, already dressed in her faded blue scrubs.

“You’re up early,” Teresa said, her voice thick with fatigue but her eyes alert.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

Teresa poured hot water into a steel mug and sat across from her, sighing as she rubbed her knees. She looked older than her forty-two years—labor aged faster than time.

“I thought you had a call with that company today,” she said casually.

Lia hesitated, then slid the phone across the table.

Teresa squinted at the screen. Her lips moved silently as she read.

Then she went still.

Her hand trembled slightly as she set the phone down. “You got it?”

Lia nodded.

“They want me to start in three weeks.”

For a moment, Teresa just stared at her. Then she let out a breath that seemed to carry decades with it.

“God is good,” she whispered, reaching across the table to squeeze her daughter’s hand. “You’ve done it, Lia.”

Pride, warm and wide, bloomed in Lia’s chest.

Then Teresa’s fingers tensed.

“But three weeks?” Her brows knit. “You’ll be alone. You’ve never been on a plane. What if they treat you like a nobody? What if, what if you get sick? Or lose the job?”

“Mom,” Lia said softly. “It’s a real company. A good one. They’re paying for everything.”

“That’s not what I’m worried about.” Teresa looked away. “I’m worried about *you.* You’re not... built for loneliness.”

Lia’s smile faded.

“I’ve been taking care of this family since I was seventeen.”

“That’s not the same.”

“But it’s enough.”

They fell into silence, the old ceiling fan whirring overhead.

“I don’t know...” Teresa said after a long pause. “Maybe you stay one more year. Save more. Prepare better.”

Lia’s heart sank. “Another year means another job missed. Another chance lost. Mom” her voice broke slightly, “I’ve earned this.”

Teresa’s expression wavered, torn between pride and fear. Between letting go and holding on.

A small voice interrupted them.

“Are you going to the sky?” Ariel had padded in silently, teddy bear in hand.

Teresa wiped her eyes and turned away.

Lia scooped her youngest sister into her arms, hugging her tight. “Yes,” she whispered into her hair. “A big metal bird.”

Talia stumbled in behind her, yawning. “Why is everyone up so early?” she muttered.

“She’s leaving,” Teresa said.

Lia looked at her. “I got the job.”

Talia blinked, eyes widening. “Wait—*what*?”

“In Country K,” Lia added. “In finance.”

Talia froze, then stepped forward. “That’s amazing!” she said—too quickly. Her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Lia saw it. The spark of jealousy. The flicker of loss.

She pulled her into a hug anyway.

“We did it,” she whispered. “Not just me. All of us.”

From the doorway, Teresa watched in silence. She didn’t smile. But she didn’t argue again, either.

---

The news spread fast.

Sade, of course, was the first to blow up her phone.

> **YOU GOT THE JOB?! AND YOU TOLD ME LAST??**

Soon Lara, Eva, and Celine were texting too. Group chat chaos.

> **We’re celebrating.**

> **No arguments.**

> **I’m thinking beach day.**

Sade called ten minutes later, voice already full of mischief.

“You’re coming to the coast. One day. One night. That’s all we ask.”

“I don’t know,” Lia sighed. “I haven’t even—”

“Nope,” Sade cut her off. “I will personally drag you. You’ve worked your whole life. You’re not allowed to disappear quietly like a ghost.”

Lia smiled weakly. “But I’ve never even gone to a real party.”

“Perfect,” Sade said. “First time for everything. Bring that sky-blue crop top. You need to make memories before you go and become someone’s office girl.”

“I’m a finance major.”

“Exactly. That’s all the more reason to party before you become boring.”

Lia laughed. Maybe for the first time that day.

Maybe, she thought, just for a moment... she could let herself enjoy this.

---

That night, she stood quietly in the hallway outside the bedroom she shared with her sisters.

Talia was asleep, sprawled like a queen across the bed. Ariel lay curled beneath one thin blanket, her stuffed bunny tucked under her chin.

Lia leaned against the wall and watched them, her heart twisting.

She was doing this for them. For all of them.

But leaving them still hurt.

From behind her, Teresa’s voice came soft and tired.

“You always said you’d fly away.”

Lia turned. Her mother stood at the other end of the hallway, arms crossed, face unreadable.

“I didn’t think you’d do it so soon,” she added.

Lia tried to smile. “Is that your way of saying I can go?”

Teresa didn’t answer right away. Then, finally, she stepped forward and pulled something from her pocket—a small, gold-plated cross on a worn chain.

“Your grandmother gave this to me when I left home. It brought me luck.”

She placed it in Lia’s hand. “Now it’s yours.”

Lia’s throat tightened.

“Go,” Teresa said softly. “Do what I couldn’t.”

And just like that, it was real.

Lia had barely slept the night before. Her thoughts drifted between flight routes and currency exchange, between her mother’s eyes and Ariel’s tiny hand clutching her fingers. She wasn’t sure what she expected from a “celebration.” But when the van pulled up that morning and Sade jumped out wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat and lipstick the color of blood oranges, Lia already knew resistance was pointless.

She let them pull her out of the house like a leaf in the wind.

---

Sade had gone all out. She wore a red halter dress that clung to her like it had been stitched in Paris. Her long red hair was tied in a high ponytail that swung with every confident step. Her face flawless, high-cheekboned, and mischievous—turned heads even when she wasn’t trying.

“Lia,” she said, sliding her sunglasses down her nose. “If you show up to a beach day looking like a librarian, I swear I’ll throw your sandals into the ocean.”

“I brought jeans,” Lia admitted carefully.

Sade gasped as though she’d confessed a crime. “You’re leaving this continent in three weeks. You’re not allowed to wear sadness. You wear *power.*” She held up a hanger. “Sky-blue crop top. White beach skirt. Trust me.”

Lia eyed the outfit. She hadn’t worn that top since graduation had covered it with a blazer the whole night.

But maybe... today was different.

She dressed quietly in the van, cheeks flushed, the girls whistling around her. Eva reached over and pinned a seashell clip into Lia’s dark brown curls.

“Now you sparkle,” she said with a proud smile.

---

The beach resort was alive with color, sand like powdered gold, sky like polished glass. Vendors shouted about grilled fish and fried plantains. Reggae played from unseen speakers. Tourists laughed around bonfires that had already started crackling in shallow pits.

Lia stepped out of the van and blinked against the light. Her skirt danced in the breeze. Her golden-brown eyes caught the sun just so. For a moment, she felt like a version of herself she had almost forgotten.

---

Alessio noticed her instantly.

He was lounging at the beach bar with Marco and two local girls, his long legs stretched out like a prince on holiday. His black hair was still damp from a swim. But when she walked by barefoot, smiling, wind catching her hair everything else dimmed.

Her beauty wasn’t loud. It didn’t ask for attention. It simply existed, like the moon doesn’t ask the tide to rise.

Marco caught him staring.

“Let me guess,” he said, grinning. “You’re interested.”

“She’s interesting.”

“She's *gorgeous*. And out of your league.”

Alessio raised a brow. “Nothing’s out of my league.”

He leaned in and murmured something to the bartender, who returned minutes later with a folded pink napkin and a small decorative shell on top.

“This still works here?” Marco asked, half-laughing.

“If she picks it up,” Alessio said coolly, “it’s a yes.”

Lia was sipping her favorite mango yogurt when the waitress approached.

“This is from the beach,” she said, smiling as she placed the napkin and shell on the table.

Lia blinked. It looked... intentional. Artful.

She assumed it was a welcome token—something the resort gave to first-timers. Without hesitation, she picked it up and smiled in thanks.

From across the beach, Alessio’s smirk deepened.

“She took it,” he said.

Marco tilted his head. “And so it begins.”

---

The day unfolded in color and laughter.

Lara had already started a volleyball game with three shirtless boys who looked ready to worship her. Her short blonde hair stuck up in windswept spikes, and her toned legs kicked up sand like she was built for the beach.

Celine found a shaded bench, sipping pineapple juice and sketching the scene on a napkin with her long black hair tucked behind one ear. Her classic glasses made her look like a poet from Marseille.

Eva twirled through the shallow waves, her space buns decorated with tiny bows. She looked like a doll brought to life half-European, half-Asian, all charm.

And Sade? Sade strutted like she owned the coastline. She danced to whatever music played, dragged strangers into photos, and made sure no moment passed without flair.

Lia laughed with them, genuinely but beneath her smile, part of her still stood back in the hallway at home. Watching Ariel sleep. Watching her mother pretend not to cry.

She let the sound of waves fill that silence.

Maybe this was the goodbye she needed.

---

Night came like a lullaby. Bonfires flickered, and fairy lights strung between palm trees began to glow. The girls sat on woven mats, hair tangled with salt and sand, skin warm from sun and fire.

“We’re not driving back tonight,” Sade declared. “We’ll get rooms. One night only.”

She and Celine wandered off toward the resort lobby to inquire.

Lia lingered at the edge of the bar, her yogurt now half-melted in the heat. She opened her bag to tuck in her phone and paused, staring at the folded pink napkin.

It hadn’t been a welcome gift, had it?

A man approached. This time, a waiter in a pale uniform.

“Silver Room 3 is ready,” he said.

Lia blinked. “Room 3? Oh... that must be the one Sade booked for me.”

He nodded politely. “Follow me.”

She rose slowly, a strange flutter twisting in her stomach. Sunset had just dipped below the horizon. The garden path shimmered with amber lights.

---

The door to Room 3 clicked open softly.

Lia stepped inside and immediately froze.

It wasn’t the lighting, or the luxury of the room. It was *him.*

Alessio.

Shirtless. Towel around his neck. Drops of water glistening on his sculpted chest like diamonds. Deep blue eyes widened slightly only for a second.

He smiled.

“Ah,” he said, in a voice like smoke and silk. “So you’re the one.”

---

The room was quiet, golden-lit, and too warm.

Lia stood frozen in the doorway, the cool metal of the handle still pressed to her fingers. Her eyes locked on the man standing at the foot of the bed — tall, bare-chested, water dripping from his hair and trailing slowly down his sculpted abdomen.

He smiled.

And the smile wasn’t shy. It was sharp and lazy, like a flame flickering low.

“You came,” he said, voice smooth and amused.

“I… what?”

“Room 3,” he said, reaching for a towel and rubbing the back of his neck. “Pink napkin.”

Lia blinked. “I thought… that was a gift. From the resort.”

“Depends on how you see it,” he said. “In some places, it’s a signal. A yes.”

She stared at him. “Wait. This… this isn’t the room my friends booked for me?”

He gave a half-shrug, completely unbothered. “Doesn’t look like it.”

Her cheeks flamed. “Then I should go. I’m sorry—this is a mistake.”

She turned to leave, embarrassed and dizzy with confusion. But his voice, soft and low, stopped her.

“Wait.”

She paused without looking back.

“I can let you go,” he said, stepping toward her, slowly. “But not for free.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What does that mean?”

He was close now, just a breath away. The scent of the ocean clung to his skin, along with something darker, warmer. His deep blue eyes were unreadable.

“One kiss,” he said, as if asking for a favor. “And I’ll open the door myself.”

Lia’s lips parted in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

He smirked. “Am I?”

She couldn’t read him. Was this a game? Was he serious? Why wasn’t her brain working?

Her thoughts spiraled, panic, pride, humiliation, and something hot in her stomach. He was waiting. And she didn’t want to be laughed at again, like she was some clueless little girl.

Before she could stop herself, **she leaned in and kissed him.**

It was quick, awkward. A soft, shaky brush of her lips on his.

Alessio’s eyes widened, just for a moment. Surprise flickered across his face, followed by something gentler… then darker.

She was inexperienced. *New.*

He saw it — felt it — and his expression shifted.

Then, with sudden care, he stepped in and kissed her back.

This time, it was different. Slow. Confident. He guided the kiss, coaxing rather than claiming. One hand rose to cradle the back of her head, the other gently brushing her waist. Her knees weakened under the warmth of his mouth.

> *What am I doing?*

> Her body moved before her mind could stop it.

And then… it was over.

He pulled away, a quiet smile on his lips.

Lia’s cheeks were burning. Her breath came fast. She couldn’t meet his eyes.

“C–Can I go now?” she whispered.

He opened the door. “Yeah,” he said lightly. “You’re free.”

She stepped out quickly, trying to erase the moment from her memory — or maybe hold on to it, just for a second longer.

But before the door closed, his voice followed her:

“Oh, and by the way…” His tone was playful now, teasing. “I was just joking. Didn’t think you’d actually kiss me.”

The door clicked shut with finality.

Lia stood in the hallway, stunned.

*He was joking?*

*He didn’t mean it?*

*I kissed him for nothing?!*

---

Sade’s voice called out from behind her, breathless and concerned.

“There you are! I’ve been looking everywhere what took you so long?”

Lia clenched her fists, still red-faced and fuming.

“Remind me to get revenge,” she muttered. “The kind they write poems about.”

---