"...And this is why capitalism does not give a shit about us. It's just a system founded from economic inequality that makes the rich richer and the poor poorer," Karmin finished in one breath. "Wait, what was I talking about again?"

Her younger sister, Aaliyah blinked confusedly and slowly spoke. "About your shopping trip with Viola."

"Oh right," she sighed, pointing at her. "We got these cute dresses for less than ten dollars at the thrift store."

"That's it? That's all you had to tell me?"

Karmin thought about it for a second. "Yeah, basically," she shrugged noncommittally, taking a sip of her orange juice.

Aaliyah shoved her binder into her backpack, viciously zipping it up and throwing it on the marble kitchen counter. "I don't have time for your rants on capitalism. I need to get to class and so do you."

Aaliyah Desai was a 17-year-old junior in high school, making her two years younger than Karmin. Just like her, she had the same bronze skin with underlying tones of light umber, and bright brown eyes that looked like melted pools of rusted gold. Whereas Karmin's hair hung past her shoulders, Aaliyah's hair was cut short to her chin. She liked to act if she was older with her framed glasses and button-up shirts. She had an I'm-smarter-than-you'll-ever-be aura surrounding her, and it was infuriating.

However, they did get along pretty well. One minute they were fighting because she borrowed one of Aaliyah's sweaters, and the next, they were making dinner plans.

Having a sister was weird.

Karmin placed the now empty cup into the sink and turned to grab her pastel pink backpack that was sitting on the mahogany dinner table. "Just let me go see how Dad is doing, and then we'll head out."

She headed out the kitchen but halted in her step when she heard Aaliyah call her name.

"Do you think he's going to be okay, Minnie?" she asked nervously, pulling at her fingers like a nervous tick.

Karmin smiled softly at the nickname. At first, she used to hate the name, because it affiliated her with a mouse with gigantic ears. It was hard not to be offended, but she came to find it endearing.

"He'll be fine, Ali. I'll make sure of it," she mumbled the last part.

Karmin walked about the stairs of their snug townhouse, the floorboards creaking and her socks slipping slightly. She made it to the corner room, where the door was cracked open. She managed to catch her parents conversing in Punjabi.

"I don't know how we're going to keep affording the dialysis treatments," her Mom said worriedly.

"It's okay, Sukh. Insurance is covering most of it and we can take out some more loans," he replied in Punjabi.

"But what about the transplant? Dr. Ambrose called and said that they have a possible match. There is no way we have that much money for the procedure."

A possible match? That would mean her Dad had an actual chance.

Karmin's Dad sighed. "Don't worry. We will figure it out."

"Don't worry? It's 200,000 dollars after the coverage," her Mom whispered. "The only way is if we use the kid's school fund."

"No," her Dad denied in their native tongue. "We are not touching that money. Unlike us, they have the chance to go to university and get a good job. We will figure it out," he repeated.

A sense of dread filled Karmin. She would give the money they had saved up for her education in a heartbeat, but her Dad would never allow that.

Both of her parents never attended university in India, and her Dad was a dropout. When they first immigrated to Long Island, New York in the late 90s, they had no qualifications, and to make it worse, they were forced to bear racial slurs. They worked laborious jobs to keep a roof over their heads and she was so very thankful. They would take food out of their mouth to feed them, and it made her tear up to know how much they struggled.

It was even worse with her Dad's sickness.

Karmin slowly entered the room, poking her head inside. Her Dad was lying on the bed, his usual brown skin a sickly yellow. He had lost weight from the treatment and he never ate much. He was constantly tired, but that never stopped him. Her Mom sat beside him, grey hair sprinkling her scalp, and worry lines etched on her face like a permanent tattoo.

Her parents stopped talking immediately and put on two large smiles.

She could tell they weren't genuine.

"How are you feeling, Dad?" she asked in Punjabi.

"I am perfect," he said in English with his thick accent, smiling widely through his beard.

Karmin choked out a laugh, taking a seat beside him and patting down her skirt. "Oh, so we're speaking English now?" she teased.

"What can I say? My English is too good."

"Nav, stop it," her Mom reprimanded adoringly. "Everything is good, so go to school, and why you wearing skirt? It's so cold."

Karmin looked down her midi floral amber skirt that had a slit down the side that she paired with an oversized black sweater. "Mom, it's April, and it's a little windy, but I'll be fine."

Her entire wardrobe consisted of dresses, skirts, shorts, and the occasional jeans. The only time you'll ever see her wearing pants was when she was chilling at home or in the winter after her Mom would threaten her with a flip flop and pneumonia.

"Minnie, come on!" shouted Aaliyah from downstairs, interrupting their conversation. "I have a student council meeting before class, and the president can't be late!"

"I'm going to go," Karmin said, getting up, pushing her wavy hair behind her ear. "Are you sure everything is okay? Is there anything you want to tell me?"

Her parents exchanged glances briefly.

"You stop worrying. I see you after class, okay?" her Dad said, giving her a fist bump, and then proceeded to make the explosion sound.

Karmin's shoulders sank in defeat. She wished they would tell her upfront, but she nodded anyway. With one last smile, she walked out of the room, a cloud of worry and fear hanging over her.

Her Dad was a jolly dude. He was smiling no matter how much he was in pain. There were so many things she loved about him. The fact he would match his turban with his shirts, or when he swore in Punjabi while watching American football. Nothing could bring him down.

Even his failing kidneys.

Karmin's Dad was in the final stages of kidney disease. Every day, he looked a bit worse, and every day he would tell them he was fine. Karmin, Aaliyah, and her Mom all wanted to donate a kidney, but that would mean two surgeries and that meant double the cost. They couldn't afford it, so they were forced to stick to the cheaper option: dialysis.

He had been on dialysis for well over five years, which meant they had been in debt for five years. The only way a transplant would be even possible is if someone passed away and they donated their organs. This meant one surgery, and from what Karmin heard, they might have a shot.

But all the expenses, including the procedure, hospital stay, and anti-rejection pills would cost a fortune.

They should just move to Canada. Ya know, universal health care and all that good stuff.

She needed to figure out a way to get money quickly. Maybe she could get her old job back at the local grocery store. Mrs. Jamison always did like her, and she spent three years working for her during high school.

But that would take too long.

She could go all Good Girls and rob the grocery store. Karmin bet Mrs. Jamison was hiding bundles of money in the safe behind the store. But her heart would most likely give out if the store was robbed, and Karmin could not have the death of an elderly woman on her conscious.

How about joining a gang and selling drugs?

No, she couldn't do that. She was in pre-med for god sake. Selling drugs would not sit well with her, not to mention she would probably have to get a gang tattoo. If the tattoo was cute, like a rose or a butterfly, she would maybe think about it, but she didn't know many gangs who opted for a smiling heart tatt.

Maybe, she should just become a stripper. They did have cute outfits, and she loved talking to people. Karmin could bust a move on a good day, but her parents would probably disown her. She also didn't like the idea of random men touching her.

Well, now what?

Karmin was snapped from her thoughts by the incessant tapping of Aaliyah's loafers.

"Come on," she urged, clapping her hands. "I've got people to fire and freshmen to yell at."

Yeah... Aaliyah took her position as student council president much too seriously.

Karmin quickly slipped on her Doc Martens that she had bought with Viola on sale, gripping her sister's shoulder when she almost stumbled over.

They locked the door and made their way out of their townhouse, stepping onto the sidewalk and blending in with the other pedestrians. The clouds floated in the azure sky and a gentle morning breeze danced through her charcoal hair. Her ears were flooded from busy traffic and the sounds of people chatting mindlessly around her.

The conversation between her parents weighed heavily on her mind. Two thoughts repeatedly swirled around in her brain.

She was going to get that money no matter what she had to do.

What was the second one again?

Oh yeah.

Fuck capitalism.

***

Author's Note:

Hey everyone!

I really hoped you all liked this chapter! I would love to hear your thoughts!

Fun fact: The parents are actually based on mine. Neither of them attended university, because they were unable to since they grew up in a village in India. They came to Canada in the 90s and because of them, I have the opportunities I do now. I am so grateful for them. I actually teared up a little writing that scene lol.

Just wanted to mention that when Karmin's parents speak English, it won't be grammatically correct all the time. Their English is "broken" like the English of a lot of immigrants.

BTW, Good Girls is a tv show about three moms who rob a grocery store. It's super good!

There will be weekly updates every Monday and Friday!

Until next time – m.k.t