let her continue.
“We have no money,” she said. “The cards don’t work. The insurance is messed up. Everything is falling apart, and this is your fault.”
My fault.
Of course.
“You need to fix this,” she said. “Right now. Call whoever you called. Stop whatever you started.”
I stared at the ceiling.
“You should have stayed out of my bedroom.”
Silence.
Immediate.
Sharp.
She had nothing.
I ended the call and went back to sleep.
By morning, their desperation was obvious.
Money disappearing.
Protection gone.
Reputation cracking.
And they
