“What kind of psychopath keeps a ledger on her own family?
Did she ever see us as people, or just a math problem?”
From the hallway, Wanda’s voice: “If somebody borrows a woman’s money for five years and never pays a cent back, honey, it’s only sensible she writes it down.”
Marlene snatched the notebook and hurled it to the floor.
“This is all lies!
She’s trying to humiliate us in front of the whole building!”
Shane’s phone buzzed.
One text from me.
No words — only a photograph from the ER, my bruised face under the hard light, the stitches at my scalp.
The caption read: I’m not making a scene, Shane.