He climbs forty-seven steps every day. The question is whether he'll ever climb anything higher.

Deon sleeps on his aunt's couch, works jobs that don't last, and spends his nights with his forehead pressed against the window, watching a city he cannot afford to live in. Eight months of counting lights across the street. Eight months of the same dent in the cushion shaped like his spine.

Then his best friend offers a way out. Not a clean one. Not an honest one. But a way.

One season later, Deon has the money, the apartment, the view from the eighth floor. But the glass between him and the life he wanted turns out to be thinner than he thought. When an old friend gets arrested and a stranger shows up with a name on a piece of paper, Deon learns that climbing higher doesn't mean leaving the ground behind.

Forty-Seven Steps is about hunger and consequence, about the weight of a single number, and about whether you can ever really become someone new without losing who you were.