Chapter 3
Marcus did not ask why I had let things get so bad.
He asked where I would sleep that night.
That difference made me cry.
“I still have the apartment,” I said. “For now.”
“How much time?”
“The notice says they’re starting court proceedings. I spoke to a tenant counselor yesterday.”
He nodded.
“Good. We’ll speak to someone who knows what can actually happen. Nobody guesses today.”
I wiped my face with the edge of a tissue.
“I’ve been guessing for weeks.”
He sat across from me.
“Tell me what you need first.”
I looked at Hope.
“Somewhere to change her.”
He stood immediately.
That was how the wedding stopped for me.
Not with shouting.
With a clean changing mat brought into a family room while chandeliers glittered outside and hundreds of people waited for a bride.
After I fed Hope, Marcus asked whether my sister could come.
My older sister, Tasha, was working a double shift.
I called her anyway.
The moment she heard my voice, she said, “Where are you?”
“At the wedding.”
“Did somebody hurt you?”
I looked at Marcus.
“Not the way you mean.”
She came forty minutes later in navy scrubs.
She took one look at my face and put her arms around me carefully, avoiding the baby.
“I knew you shouldn’t go alone.”
“I wanted to be brave.”
“You were.”
Outside the room, someone began arguing.
I heard Nia say my name.
Then Marcus opened the door, stepped out, and closed it behind him.
I could not hear every word.
I heard enough.
“There will be no ceremony today.”
A pause.
Then something struck the wall.
Not a person.
A small, hard object.
Later, I learned Nia had thrown her engagement ring.
At the time, I sat frozen while Tasha held my hand.
“None of this is yours to carry,” she said.
I wanted to believe her.
But I had spent seven weeks carrying everything.
Eli’s funeral arrangements.
Hospital forms.
His clothes.
Our daughter.
The fear that if I put any of it down, there would be nobody left to pick it up.
Marcus came back without his boutonniere.
“My attorney is on her way.”
I stiffened.
“For what?”
“To understand the notice. And something else.”
He took a breath.
“I arranged support after Eli died.”
I stared at him.
“What support?”
“Enough to cover your rent and living expenses while the insurance claim was processed.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
His expression changed.
“It was supposed to come from my personal account. Nia offered to handle the payments while I was overseas.”
Tasha sat forward.
“How much?”
“Thirty thousand dollars.”
My mouth went dry.
I had spent the previous night counting coins for a taxi.
“Marcus.”
“I thought you had it.”
“I sold Eli’s watch to pay for the funeral.”
He looked as though I had struck him.
“It wasn’t expensive,” I said quickly. “I mean, it mattered, but—”
“It mattered.”
His voice broke.
I could not look at him.
Eli had bought that watch after his first promotion. He used to hold his wrist beside mine and say we finally looked like responsible adults.
I had kissed it before handing it over.
I never told anyone that part.
Marcus stood and walked to the window.
Tasha did not interrupt him.
Neither did I.
When he turned back, his eyes were wet.
“I’m sorry.”
I nodded because forgiveness was not something I could produce on command.
His attorney arrived twenty minutes later.
Her name was Simone Price. She wore a dark suit and spoke to me as if I was an adult whose choices mattered.
She asked to see the notice.
Then she asked whether I wanted help.
“Yes,” I said.
That word felt enormous.
She explained that the paper did not mean someone could throw us out that afternoon. She would connect me with a housing lawyer and speak with the landlord’s office.
Then Marcus told her about the missing money.
She looked at him carefully.
“Do you have the transfer records?”
“I can get them.”
“Get them. Don’t confront anyone about an amount you haven’t confirmed.”
He opened his banking app.
Simone asked me whether Eli had life insurance.
“Yes. The claim is still pending.”
“Who told you that?”
“Nia.”
The room went quiet.
“She said Marcus asked her to help with the paperwork,” I added.
Simone put down her pen.
“Did you sign anything?”
“A release so she could speak to the insurer.”
“Do you have a copy?”
“At home.”
“We’ll collect it.”
I suddenly remembered Nia sitting at my kitchen table three days after the funeral.
She had brought a fruit basket.
She had told me grief made paperwork dangerous.
Let me handle it. You need to focus on the baby.
I had been grateful.
The memory made my skin crawl.
Marcus’s phone rang.
He answered, listened, and looked at Simone.
“What does that mean?”
He put the call on speaker with the bank representative’s permission.
The woman confirmed a transfer had gone into an account Marcus had been told belonged to me.
It did not.
Simone asked him to end the call and preserve the details.
He did.
I could hear my daughter breathing.
Tiny.
Steady.
Completely dependent on people she had no reason to distrust.
Marcus looked at me.
“I need to ask you something.”
I nodded.
“Did you ever receive a letter saying Eli’s insurance claim had already been paid?”
“No.”
Simone’s phone vibrated.
She read the message, then lifted her eyes.
“The insurer has verified the claim status with Maya’s authorization.”
I gripped Tasha’s hand.
May you like
Simone spoke gently.
“The payment was issued three weeks ago.”
