The air turned bitter as the temperature dropped six degrees in thirty minutes.

I sat on the top step of the front porch with my hands tucked deep inside the sleeves of my canvas coat.

Knox laid his head across my leather boots, his breath rising in small white puffs under the yellow porch bulb.

Twelve thousand dollars sat frozen solid in the bank vault on High Street.

The three-hundred-fifteen-dollar filing fee for Daniel’s legal response was due before noon tomorrow.

My father believed he had stripped away every resource I had, locking me out of the outbuildings and leaving me broke in front of the judge.