Ware

sound that made Isabell' s perfectly sculpted face tighten with a

y?" Isabell aske

pair from the corner of my eye. I looked at her, at the lawyer, at the littl

eerily steady. "I was just thinki

walked back into the bedroom I had shared wi

ss to the lawyer. "Is she packing? Make

d. It wasn't my clothes I was after. It wasn't the few pieces of jew

led out a thick stack of bank statements from the last five years, one for each

ry receipt I had meticulously saved. I found the statements for the supplementary credit card Jordan

in the doorway, her arms crossed, her expre

ly thinking of trying to blackmail us, are you? Trying to

the mail. I rummaged through it until I found what I was looking for: the receipt for Leo' s new five-hundred-dollar

nd placed the receipt right on top.

It was heavy, filled with the

clear and strong. "I' m ready to go

not, Ms. Ware. Those are financial documents related to the

are records of my labor. My earnings.

Isabell sneered, looking at me as if I were a parti

slow, cold smile spreading across my face. "You and

y plucked eyebrow. "

I' m obsessed with money," I said, my vo

an be a stage play. A child can be taken from you. But money... money is just numbers. It' s honest. It doesn' t pretend to be

out sneakers. I didn't look back at the expensive furniture that would s

be to acknowledge a wound so deep it would kill me. I h

my now-useless bank cards, my laptop, and the box. The

ard was Isabell' s light, musical laughter, followed by

or the fire that was