“He has until Friday the twelfth,” I said.

“That’s the bank’s deadline for the second loan.”

“Vance said he needs you at his office in the strip mall at eight tomorrow morning with whatever papers you managed to hang on to,” Sarah said.

“I don’t have my purse,” I said.

“I don’t even have forty-two dollars for the first consultation fee.”

Sarah went to the little closet, took a folded pair of gray sweatpants and a thick knitted cotton sweater off the shelf and laid them on the mattress next to my knees.

“Vance doesn’t care about your forty-two dollars,” Sarah said.