I married Jonah for money while he was serving twelve years in prison. At first, I told myself it was just paperwork to keep my brother-safe. But when Jonah walked free and opened a black box on my kitchen table, I learned his mother had chosen me for a reason.

Three years later, Jonah walked free, placed a black box on my kitchen table, and showed me the real reason his mother had chosen me.

I married Jonah for $2,000 a month.

That was the night I learned poverty had not made me invisible.

It had made me useful.

Owen saw the rent notice before I could hide it.

He was seventeen, too tall for his secondhand sneakers, and too proud to ask why I watered down soup.

« Is it bad, Sadie? » he asked.

I folded the notice. « It’s paper. Paper likes to act important. »