Chapter 23: A Coat That Fits

On the morning of March ninth I woke up twenty-one in a bed that was mine.

It was a plain double bed in the cottage, with a quilt Ingrid had given us and a window full of lemon tree.

Dylan lay on his stomach beside me with one arm under the pillow.

He had worked the night shift and had been home for forty minutes.

His boots were still on the rug.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand.

It was a bank notice, three lines long, from an account I had opened in January with my own name on it and no one else's.

A deposit has been made. Amount: $164,300.

I held the phone close to my face and read the number twice.

Then I put it face-down on the quilt and lay with my eyes shut.

It was not the whole two hundred and twelve thousand.

It was most of what could be paid on the first day, the house, the agency's account and the first of Erik's checks.

The trust had paid out in full, but my father had already spent the rest, forty-seven thousand seven hundred dollars.

He would repay it through the lawyer's office, thirty thousand now and five hundred a month for three years, and he had to sign for every payment.

I had thought I would cry.

What I felt was a long, steady quiet.

"What time is it?" Dylan said into the pillow.

"Seven."

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you."

"The money came."

"How did you know?"

"You went still." He turned his head and opened one eye. "You go very still when it's something big."

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