Chapter 3

Claire stood in the doorway with a ledger, recording each item as it went out.

“Check everything. Don't miss anything. Otherwise she'll sell everything Mr. Grant owns in here, and he won't even know.”

I stood awkwardly to one side. I had no say in any of it.

When they were gone, I looked around the empty rooms and gave a bitter laugh.

A year earlier, when I'd first moved in, Ethan had picked out those things for me himself.

He'd just gotten me away from my gambling addict of a father.

“You're with me now,” he'd said. “You'll never have to be scared about money again.”

He'd sounded so sincere, so certain. I'd believed him.

Now I wasn't sure I'd made the right choice at all.

A local job alert popped up on my phone. A bar needed part-time help in the evenings. Fifty dollars a shift.

If I could work quietly for a month, I'd have enough for the abortion.

At the interview, the manager seemed convinced I was serious about the job. He hired me on the spot and told me to start in three days.

Outside, I pulled out my phone to tell Megan.

Before I finished typing, nausea rolled through me. Everything went black, and I collapsed.

I woke in a hospital bed.

A young nurse saw that I was awake and used a syringe to add something to the IV bag.

“You haven't been getting enough to eat. This is to help replenish what your body needs.”

“I don't often see pregnant patients pass out from hunger. Where's your husband? How could he let you get this bad?”

I gripped the blanket.

“I don't have one.”

Her expression softened with pity.

“Your baby needs you to eat. You can't keep going like this.”

I nodded. I'd thought being pregnant would at least mean I could stop going hungry.

But on the day I was discharged, I called Ethan three times. All three calls were rejected.

I had to ask Megan for money toward the hospital bill. She sent it without a single question.

“You passed out, and he still won't look after you or the baby? What the hell is wrong with him?”

“I'm going to find him.”

I stopped her. “Please, Meg. Let me handle it.”

“I've made up my mind about the baby. I'll talk to him tonight.”

To my surprise, Ethan was there when I got home.

He was wearing an apron, carrying food out of the kitchen. He didn't seem particularly pleased to see me.

“Why is there nothing to eat in this house? Is this how you've been living?”

Before he finished, the smell of hot grease sent me running to the bathroom to gag.

He followed me, frowning.

“What's wrong? You look awful.”

He handed me a glass of water. “Since when are you this delicate?”

I rinsed my mouth and waited for the nausea to ease.

“I need some money.”

For a few seconds, neither of us moved. Then he gave a short, scornful laugh.

“So that's what this is about.”

“Those three calls today. Were they about money too?”

I used the wall to pull myself upright.

“Yes.”

He looked at me with a coldness that frightened me.

“You never change. You'll do anything for money.”

He snatched up his jacket and headed for the door. Before leaving, he stopped.

“I'll have Claire send it.”

The door slammed behind him.

I didn't know how long I stood there before making my way to the table.

He'd made barbecue ribs. My favorite.

Looking at them now only made me sick.

The next morning, Claire sent a message.

“Nothing is ever enough for you, is it? Keep demanding money like this, and Ethan will want even less to do with you.”