I grab the edge of the dresser to steady myself. The wood is smooth and cool under my palms.
The romantic weekend. Callum had surprised me - "Just you and me, baby, let's get away from the city." A boutique hotel. Room service breakfast. Sex that felt like he was trying to prove something.
And on Saturday afternoon, he'd said, "We should stop by the bank while we're here. Take care of some paperwork. Just boring adult stuff, but we can grab lunch after."
I'd been hungover. Tired from staying up late. He'd ordered mimosas at brunch and I'd had three because they tasted like orange juice and sunshine.
The bank had been cold. Too bright. A woman with a tight smile had pushed papers across a desk. So many papers. Callum's hand warm on my back, his thumb drawing circles through my shirt.
"Just a formality, baby. So I can help you if there's ever an emergency. You know, if something happens and you need me to access your account. It's what couples do."
I'd signed them. Barely read them. Just wanted to get back to the hotel, to the warm bed.
My knees buckle. I sit down hard on the bed.
"Ma'am? Are you still there?"
"I'm here." My voice cracks. I clear my throat, taste bile. "How much is in the account?"
"I'm showing a balance of $447.62 before the freeze."
Mom's emergency money. The $1,000 she wired, because he knew that I needed suppressants and having nowhere to go. And the rest were spent on suppressants and food since I’ve been here. But now the little I had is all frozen.
I stand up too fast. The room tilts. I brace myself against the wall, pressing my forehead to the cool plaster.
"The freeze could take up to thirty days to resolve," Brenda chirps. "But I can submit an expedite request if you'd like!"
Thirty days.
Thirty days with nothing.
"Yes," I whisper. "Please."
"Wonderful! I'll get that processed for you right away. Is there anything else I can help you with today?"
I hang up without answering and let the phone drop onto the bed.
My wallet is on the nightstand. I grab it with shaking hands, flip it open. Three dollar bills - worn and soft from being folded and refolded. Two quarters. One dime. Seven pennies.
I count them twice. Three times. Like the amount might change if I just look hard enough.
$3.47.
That's everything. Everything Callum can't touch because it's physical, tangible, mine.
The bacon smell is stronger now, mixed with coffee and something sweet - pancakes, maybe. My stomach growls despite the nausea churning in my gut. I haven't eaten since dinner last night when I'd forced down three bites of spaghetti before excusing myself.
A knock makes me jump so hard I drop the wallet. Change scatters across the hardwood, pennies rolling under the bed.
"Jess?" Carlos's voice, muffled through the door. "Breakfast is ready. Sergio made enough bacon to feed a small army, and Pedro's threatening to eat it all if you don't come out soon."
I stare at the door. At the coins on the floor. At the phone on the bed showing my frozen accounts.
"Coming." The word barely makes it past my lips.
I drop to my knees and scramble for the coins. My hands are still shaking. A penny has rolled too far under the bed - I have to lie flat on my stomach to reach it, stretching until my shoulder protests. When I finally close my fist around it, I feel like crying.
One cent. I just crawled across the floor for one cent. I shove everything back in my wallet and stand up. Smooth down Carlos's hoodie. Run my fingers through my hair. Take three deep breaths that don't help at all.
