The Lies That Kept Her Breathing

Summary

The cold glow of my phone screen burned into my eyes.

The number sat there inside my banking app, tiny and stark: $9.90. It felt like a needle driving straight into my skull.

I didn't believe it. I couldn't.

I swiped the app closed, reopened it, typed in the passcode, and scanned my thumbprint.

Still $9.90.

I did it again. A third time. A fourth. A fifth. The digits remained motionless, mocking me.

I was sitting flat on the hardwood floor of the house we had just sold. Around me stood towers of taped cardboard boxes, the stale smell of dust and packing tape hanging thick in the air.