Her stomach clenched with a sudden wave of nausea. It wasn’t just physical abuse. Her money had been disappearing too.

Without a word, she slid the papers into the yellow folder. Derek saw her do it and went completely pale.

“That’s not yours, Skylar,” he stammered.

Skylar finally looked at him with pure disgust.

“It’s on my financial statement, Derek,” she said. “Of course it’s mine.”

That night, Skylar slept at her friend Megan’s place in the Brickell district, her skin burning and her phone buzzing every few minutes with notifications.