Grandpa’s text came just then:
"Sweetheart, you can’t judge someone’s character after such a short time. Give him another chance."
I gripped my phone tightly and followed Jason off the plane.
"I booked us a place to stay — picked it carefully!"
His “careful choice” turned out to be walking us past a row of luxury five-star resorts.
We squeezed through several cluttered back alleys before finally stopping in front of a crookedly signed budget motel hidden behind a row of hotels.
"Here we are! Not bad, huh?"
Jason lifted his chin proudly, as if he had brought me to a luxury palace.
One look at the peeling paint on the doorframe set off all my internal alarms.
"How much per night?"
"Two hundred eighty."
He smirked.
"In this area, during tourist season? Total steal!"
A steal? More like stolen straight from the city dump.
I swallowed my disgust and followed him through the creaky security door.
The moment it opened, a mix of mold and sweat hit my nose.
The sheets were stained with grease and… other questionable marks.
I took a deep breath, fighting the urge to walk right out.
"Jason, you call this a good place?"
He sneered.