“It’s done,” she says a minute later, putting the phone carefully back on the surface of the desk. When she looks up at me, there’s such a painful hope in her eyes that it nearly guts me. Her lip trembles.

“You’re done,” I tell her, my voice as level as I can make it. “Get your things and get out. Don’t come back.”

Her chin quivers and she opens her mouth. Closes it again.

Turns on her heel.

Goes.

23

Jenny

I haul the last box of stuff up the last five stairs into my new apartment, wrestle it in through the front door, and let it drop to the floor. Nobody downstairs will care about the noise. The only thing below me is an art gallery that’s only open three days a week even during the tourist season. It’s probably a tax shelter for the owners, but I don’t care. The only thing that counted was the minuscule rent.

It’s three steps into the center of my new living room. This place has a minuscule rent because it’s a miniscule apartment wedged above the art gallery, accessible only by a narrow staircase. Eventually, I’m sure the owners will figure out that if they did a little updating—okay, a lot of updating—they could rent this place by the night during the week of Summerfest in Ruby Bay and make a killing.

For now, it’s mine. A month ago I would have cared deeply about the cobwebs lining the corners of the tiny combination living room and kitchen. Now that my heart is dead, I can’t find it in me to be afraid of the spiders.

I took most of the day to sort things out into anything resembling a situation under control. First, there was the walk of shame back through the bullpen. Everyone’s stares felt like daggers in my skin, but Roman’s anger was the body blow. No—it was worse than anger. It was betrayal. I could hardly breathe from the weight.

I deserved to get fired.

I get the brand-new Swiffer I bought from the hardware store on the edge of town, put a cover on it, and start with the cobwebs. Evening light comes through the single window in the living room. Hopefully I’ll have this place in order by the time the sun sets. Not that anything fun will happen when the sun sets. I’m not positive I’ll be able to sleep.