Brielle’s laugh carried clearly.

The hundred-dollar bill fluttered toward the floor like a leaf that had given up on its branch.

Then Vincent entered the frame, and I watched the part I had replayed in my own mind for months.

He put his arm around me without asking.

I flinched.

Some people in the comments called it romantic.

Others declared that the wealthy man had rescued a poor woman.

Not one of them knew that I had told him he had no right to touch me.