“Parker,” I whisper when she doesn’t say anything. “You’ve had years. I’m only asking for a day.”

I should take it as a poor sign she needs to think this much.

“I have work tomorrow, I’m sorry. I can’t really afford to miss it.”

I don’t know what it’s like to have my livelihood depend on one day of work. I should be understanding. I shouldn’t be angry. But I am.

And I’m heartbroken.

I reach into my back pocket and pull out my wallet, because all I can give is what Parker can take with her. And I know she won’t take me.

She holds the stack of bills between us, eyeing them. I’m not sure how much I have. Maybe two hundred bucks or less.

But even if it was more, it clearly means nothing to Parker, who backs away from me. Our eyes are locked as she reaches the edge with the money she’s now crumpled in her hand and lets go.

“Get down safely, Fitzy,” she tells me before disappearing down the ladder.

Day 55