Page 59 of Shatter

I haven't had the money for dye, and I haven't asked.

Dale's envelope had one thousand one hundred and forty dollars in it.

I counted it twice the first night, sitting on the floor of the bathroom with the door shut.

I sat there with it in my lap and cried so hard I had to press a towel over my mouth.

Four hundred and eighty-six of it was my paycheck.

The rest was cash from the tip jar, rubber-banded in bundles, some of it in ones and some of it in twenties, and one bundle had a sticky note wrapped around it in Dale's blocky print.

For Katie, from the regulars.

Get well soon, kid.

Four hundred and twelve dollars is what's left.

I bought two pairs of jeans and a pack of underwear and some cheap T-shirts at the Walmart on Apalachee Parkway, with Vail driving and Gunnar following us on his bike all the way there and back.

I bought a toothbrush and deodorant, shampoo, a hairbrush, and a pack of hair ties.

Every dollar I hand across a counter, I feel it go.

On the third Monday, I come back from the shower and find three hundred dollars folded on the dresser, next to my brush.

I stand there with my wet hair dripping down my back and stare at it.

Hakon's sitting on the edge of the bed, lacing his boots.

"What is this?" My voice comes out very even.

"For whatever you need." He doesn't look up from his laces. "Clothes. The stuff for your hair. Whatever."

I pick up the bills.

They're soft and warm from his pocket.

I cross the room and hold them out to him.

He looks at the money, then at my face, and his hands go still on his boot.

"Take it back." My arm doesn't waver.

"Katie, it's—" He starts to stand.

"I don't take money from men." My hand is shaking, and the bills rattle against each other. "Not ever. Not again."

"It isn't like that." His voice goes low. "There's no string on it."

"There's always a string." I push the money against his chest. "Sometimes you don't see it for a year. Sometimes it's a car, or tuition, or a trip to Whistler, or a dress, and then one day somebody reaches over and pulls on it, and you find out it was tied around your neck all along."

He stares up at me.

His throat moves.

Slowly, he closes his hand over mine and takes the bills, folding them back into his pocket without a word.

"Okay." It comes out rough.