“How much?”

“Eleven thousand four hundred.

That covers Sophie’s protective filings and your first ninety days.”

I wrote the check out of the account Julian had never once asked about.

He assumed every dollar of mine came from him.

Barbara folded it and put it in her drawer and didn’t thank me.

Then she drew a map on the yellow pad, a square for the apartment complex on Water Street, three arrows pointing out.

“Fourth floor, unit 4C.