The man who had abandoned her was funding the event.

His new son was sitting in the same room as her boys.

She clicked her plastic pen open.

She dragged a heavy dark line straight through her grocery budget for the entire month.

The blue ink tore a small hole in the paper.

The state university atrium smelled of damp wool and roasted espresso beans.

Claire walked toward the lit counter of the small corner cafe, holding her canvas purse under her left arm.

The menu overhead listed a single drip coffee for four dollars and twenty-five cents.