Someone was asking about a set of vintage glasses.
Megan turned off the screen.
Not tonight.
She walked into the bedroom while Scott remained absorbed in the television without asking where she was going. In the closet behind several folded towels Megan kept a thick brown envelope that she carefully removed and held for a moment as if confirming that it truly existed.
Inside were documents she had quietly collected during the last few weeks including bank statements, overdue notices, and a loan contract that Scott had signed without telling her using the address of their apartment in Chicago. There were also printed screenshots of messages from his phone that Megan had accidentally seen one night when he fell asleep with the screen glowing.
“Do you have any money left?”
“Only until Friday.”
“Relax, it is safe.”
“We will double it.”
The pattern had repeated for months.
Megan sat on the edge of the bed and felt something surprising inside her chest. It was not anger or panic but a calm determination that felt cold and organized as if she had finally set down a burden she had carried for years.