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"Take the money."

My voice was flat, emotionless. No shouting. No questions. Just the absolute contempt reserved for used-up, disposable goods.

"And get the hell out of my sight. Forever."

I pocketed my pen. Didn't look at her bloodless face again. I walked over the scattered bills and wreckage, through the broken door, into the black, freezing rain.

❦ ❦ ❦

Ruby

The engine's roar tore through the rain. Tires shrieked. The black Maybach disappeared around the corner, exhaust fading into the downpour.

The world went dead silent.

Cold wind howled through the broken door, rain spattering my bare shoulders.

I still sat on the moldy carpet. Couldn't move.

The five-hundred-thousand-dollar check lay by my knee, one corner soaked with rainwater. That elegant handwriting burned like a red-hot brand pressed into my heart.

He heard me.

He heard what I screamed at Chad—the lie I used to drive him away. He actually believed I got close to him, gave myself to him, let him leave marks on my body... all for money.

"Ha... haha..."

A laugh uglier than crying scraped from my throat. Tears poured down my hands.

What could I explain?

Tell him my mother was dying on an operating table? That my ex just tried to rape me for a few thousand dollars?

Or that I couldn't face the fact I'd slept with my best friend's father?

Tears blurred everything. I collapsed on the floor, hugging my frozen knees, sobbing until my throat bled, until my chest convulsed, until I nearly lost consciousness on the cold, wet floor.

Ding.

My phone.

An automated message from St. Mary's Hospital Emergency Center. [Patient Mary Caldwell's vasopressor at maximum dosage. Operating room ready. If payment not received within 15 minutes, family will be deemed to have forfeited surgery.]

Forfeited surgery.

That meant death.

The message was a shot of adrenaline, yanking me back from oblivion.

I had no right to die. No right to lie here wallowing. No right even to cry.

I bit through my tongue. The sharp, metallic pain snapped me alert. I crawled up from the floor, scraped and bleeding. I grabbed the damp check and crushed it in my fist.

This was Marcelo's humiliation. Hush money to sever all ties.

But I had to take it.

I threw on an oversized old coat, pulled up the hood to hide my swollen face, grabbed my bag, and stumbled into the frozen Hoboken night.