She placed a bid on a diamond necklace.

And when they went to process the payment, the card was declined.

In front of everyone.” I leaned against the counter, and I let a small silence stretch out, and then I asked the only question that mattered.

“How much did she bid?” There was a pause on the line, a telling one.

“Forty-eight thousand dollars.” And I nearly laughed, standing there in my kitchen, at the sheer magnificent gall of it, a woman bidding forty-eight thousand dollars on a necklace at a children’s charity auction, on a credit card belonging to the daughter-in-law she despised, and then calling that daughter-in-law’s ex-husband to complain when the free money finally stopped.

Chapter 4 — Forty-Eight Thousand Dollars