“Noah needs his morning inhaler before recess,” I said, rubbing my right thumbnail back and forth over my knuckles.

“The co-pay is eight hundred fifty dollars exactly.”

Principal Vance put his glasses back on and smoothed his tie flat against his shirt.

“I’m aware of Noah’s severe asthma, but the administrative deadline was nine o’clock last Friday.”

“My last paycheck was held up,” I said.

“I have the money, but it’s physically being processed.”

“Processed how, exactly?” he asked.

“I’ve got nine hundred fifteen dollars in cash,” I said.