Inside, fluorescent lights buzzed faintly overhead, illuminating shelves of snacks and cheap merchandise, while a teenage cashier leaned against the counter scrolling aimlessly through his phone. Madison moved quickly toward the baby supplies section, her pulse racing, lifting a can of formula that felt absurdly heavy for such a small object. She approached the counter, shifting Ivy gently against her shoulder, praying silently that mercy might appear in some unexpected form.
The scanner beeped.
“Twenty three sixty,” the cashier announced flatly, barely glancing upward.
Madison’s stomach dropped sharply, though she had anticipated disappointment long before hearing the total. She opened her wallet, revealing a lonely collection of bills and coins, painfully insufficient, and slid her debit card into the reader with trembling fingers. The machine processed briefly before flashing the familiar verdict that had come to define her recent months.
DECLINED.
“I get paid tomorrow,” Madison whispered, struggling to steady her voice, while Ivy’s cries intensified dramatically. “Could you please try again?”
The cashier sighed with theatrical impatience.