The landlord refusing.
Emily coughing beside me while I calculated medication costs.
My panic.
My humiliation.
Richard finding me crying in his kitchen.
It had not been bad luck.
It had been strategy.
“You tried to make us homeless.”
Adrian’s mouth opened.
“It wasn’t personal.”
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then I slapped him.
Hard.
The sound cracked through the kitchen.
Adrian staggered sideways.
Thomas did not intervene.
I was shaking so badly my teeth hurt.
“Not personal?”
Adrian touched his cheek.
