Chapter 11: The Number
310 words
It wasn't until midnight that the house finally went silent. Richard’s snoring vibrated through the walls, and the lights in the master bedroom were dark.
My hands were shaking so hard I could barely work the zipper on the pillowcase. I retrieved the envelope, warm from my body heat. I sat under the singular, dim bulb hanging from the garage ceiling.
I tore the tab.
Inside was a letter from the insurance company, and attached to the bottom, perforated at the edges, was the check.
My eyes scanned the lines. Pay to the order of: Loretta Miller. Amount: Four Million, Six Hundred Thousand Dollars and 00/100.
$4,600,000.
I gasped, clapping a hand over my mouth to stifle the sound. I read it again. And again. Tax-free compensation for wrongful death and gross negligence.
Four point six million.
I looked at the pathetic sleeping bag I was sitting on. I looked at the rusted lawnmower in the corner. I was richer than Richard could ever dream of being. I could buy this house ten times over and burn it to the ground.
But then the cold reality hit me harder than Richard’s insults.
I was still married. In this state, without a legal separation agreement, all assets acquired during the marriage were community property. If I cashed this now, Richard got half. $2.3 million dollars for the man who let my father die in a charity ward.
I looked at the waiver Richard had thrown at me earlier.
"Parties keep their own debts and any receivables currently in their name."
He thought he was tricking me into taking his debt. He didn't realize he was handing me the keys to the kingdom. But I had to sign his document before he found out about mine.
I had to walk into that kitchen tomorrow and play the defeated wife one last time.
End of Chapter 11
