She had used it to transfer the title into a shell company, sell the condo, and take the proceeds as a business loan to open a high-end beauty salon downtown.

She told me all of this leaning in her doorway, swirling her wine, with a small cold smile and not one flicker of shame.

“You were locked away behind bars, Mariana,” she said, and shrugged.

“I had a life to build too.”

The ground tilted under me.

“Keep the money, Paige,” I said, and I hated how my voice broke.

“Keep all of it.

Just let us sleep on the floor tonight.

Mason’s running a fever, and it’s below freezing out here.

One night.

I’ll find work tomorrow.”

She looked down at my shivering son, and her nose wrinkled in distaste.

“I just had these floors refinished,” she said.

“I don’t want you tracking mud in.” And she shut the door in our faces.