Tanya Hill deftly arranged the merchandise on her stall. "The Urban Management Officers patrol every day, but they only stay on this street for two hours. Once they leave, we can set up again."

Jenna Roland frowned, her fingers absently tracing the edge of a clothing rack. "What happens if we get caught?"

"What do you think?" Tanya shrugged. "They confiscate your goods and fine you. If you're too slow, they'll even take your cart. So the moment you see them coming, you grab everything and run."

"That serious?" Jenna inhaled sharply.

Tanya lowered her voice. "This street isn’t zoned for street vending. We’re operating under the radar—getting caught comes with consequences."

"Have you ever been caught?" Jenna couldn’t help asking.

"Once." Tanya winked mysteriously. "But I know someone on the enforcement team, so they let me off." A customer interrupted before she could finish.

Jenna didn’t press further. She meticulously smoothed out each garment and loaded backup stock into the cart.

It was Tuesday—the officers shouldn’t be making rounds today. Jenna silently counted her blessings.

Perched on a folding stool, she scanned the racks of hanging clothes. She’d rehearsed the escape plan endlessly in her mind: yank everything down, shove it into the cart, abandon the cheap hangers.

As long as she moved fast enough, no one could catch her.

From dawn until 5:30 PM, Jenna stayed planted at her stall.

"Packing up already?" Tanya eyed her in surprise as she started dismantling the display.

Jenna smiled. "Someone’s waiting at home for dinner."

"But this is peak rush hour—prime selling time." Tanya urged, "At least stay till seven."

Seven was exactly when Ethan Roscente got off work. Luckily, Milo Roland was home on break and could whip up something simple.

After a moment’s thought, Jenna took Tanya’s advice. She pulled out her phone and called Ethan. "I’ll be at the stall till seven. Handle dinner yourself tonight."

His calm acknowledgment through the receiver eased her tension.

"You could actually stay till nine," Tanya suggested, leaning in. "The shoppers from Mall of America love browsing around then."

"Too late." Jenna shook her head.

"Then come at nine in the morning and stay till seven. You’d still make decent money."

"That’s the plan." Jenna nodded firmly.

This was her job—she had to give it her all. If not for Ethan and Milo, she’d have worked straight through midnight.

But money could never be fully earned. If her health collapsed, no amount of cash would matter. She had to pace herself.