Ethan laid the blue folder flat on the glass tabletop, the stark white pages inside lined with numbers.

“The shift at the distribution center starts at six in the morning,” he said, his thumb running along the small metal ring of his key chain.

“Starting pay is twenty-two dollars an hour, and they cover health insurance after ninety days.”

I looked down at the highlighted lines on my printed bank statements, where three hundred eighty dollars had left my business checking account on the twelfth of every single month.

“And you think twenty-two dollars an hour erases six months of keeping quiet?”