Lauren let out a disbelieving breath.
“My judgment got me fired.”
“Your judgment put a hungry child in reach of her father.”
Neither of them moved.
From the couch, Denise shifted and coughed softly in her sleep.
Lauren glanced over and back.
“When would I have to answer?” she asked.
“Tomorrow morning would be ideal.”
“Tomorrow.”
“Yes.”
She almost laughed at the absurdity.
At six p.m. she had a job.
At eight p.m. she had none.
At 8:20 a stranger was standing in her apartment offering her a software position because she had disobeyed a policy over a five-cent coin.
Life had no dignity at all in the way it moved.
Before she could answer, there came another knock at the door.
Lighter this time.
Not the landlord’s fists.
Not Mr. Talbot’s impatience.
Three small taps.
Ethan’s head turned.
His mouth softened in a way Lauren had not yet seen.
