Seventy-Three Thousand Dollars in Phony Medical Bills, Paid for a Pregnant Replacement
And a blueberry muffin.”
I put my phone face down on the table.
“You can’t stand this place.”
“I’m making an effort.” He fixed his gold wristwatch, turning it until the face sat straight.
“Have a seat, Harper.”
I sat.
The chair leg scraped on the tile.
He pushed the cup toward me, and its cardboard sleeve was warm and a little damp.