It said, with the full authority of the law, that his accounting had been wrong — not only the criminal accounting of the pension fund, but the moral accounting of me, the sum he had assigned to my life.

I had been undervalued, deliberately, by a man who profited from my undervaluation, and the reckoning corrected the number.

That was what broke the fever.

Not the wealth.

The restoration of my own true worth, in a document, in a courtroom, in front of the world — proof, at last, that I had never been the small thing he needed me to believe I was.

Chapter 16 — A Real Date