Beyond the window, a thin autumn drizzle started to streak the glass, smearing the glow of the streetlights into orange lines across the wet pavement below.

I laid the phone facedown on the laminate side table beside my half-finished paper cup of coffee.

The screen lit up as I unlocked it, throwing a pale glow over my knuckles in the quiet waiting area.

A bold line item sat at the top of the account activity list under pending transactions.

Velvet Rose Bridal, four hundred fifty dollars, posted at eight fifteen this morning.

I ran my fingernail along the edge of my wristwatch twice before I read the entry a second time.