“You can stay with me for six weeks while you finish rehabilitation,” she said as they walked. “You’ll keep set hours, you’ll contribute to household expenses once you’re working, and you will never use my address to apply for credit.”

Spencer tore the paper in half. “I need a list of rules to walk into the house I grew up in?”

“You need rules because you treated my trust like a blank document,” she said, without flinching.

He left with a friend instead. Two days later he called in tears, saying he had no money for food. Abigail sent groceries to his door. No cash. When he asked her to cover another payment on his truck, she said no.

“I need that truck for work.”

“Then it has to prove it earns more than it costs.”