I leaned on the counter long enough to grab my crutches, then let him hold the door as we stepped back outside. The afternoon sun was warmer now, the pavement shimmering slightly. My energy felt thinner than it had that morning, stretched from the shift and the emotional math of simply existing in two worlds at once.
“We need to stop by the post office,” I said as he opened the passenger door for me.
“For what?”
“My check should be in my box.”
He paused slightly at that.
“He doesn’t use direct deposit?”
“No. It’s so dumb. We have been begging him, but I think it's a weird control thing.”
“I see. He’s not only an idiot but also incompetent."
He didn’t comment further, but I could feel the question hovering.
As we drove, I watched storefronts blur past and tried not to calculate how many days were left before the next invoice was due.
The fluorescent lighting buzzed overhead as we entered. Raphael walked beside me but did not touch me this time. I was grateful for that. I needed to feel like I could make it across a linoleum floor without assistance.
My PO Box was near the back wall. I slid the small brass key in and turned it.
Empty.
I stared at the hollow metal interior as if my check might materialize out of spite.
“It’s not there,” I said quietly.
“Was it expected today?”
“Yes.”
I closed the box carefully and leaned back against the wall, dialing Tripp’s number before I could talk myself out of it.
He answered on the third ring.
“Hey, Belle,” he said, too casually. “How’s the knee?”
“It’s fine,” I replied evenly. “I stopped by my box, but my check isn’t there.”
There was a pause.
“Oh. Right.”
I could almost hear the careful cruelty curl through his voice.
“I haven’t mailed it yet,” he continued. “Accounting’s been weird about sending payments to P.O. boxes.”
I stiffened. “They’ve never had a problem before.”
“Yeah, well, corporate’s tightening things up. You’ll have to come by and pick it up.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
“I’m on crutches.”
“It’s just a quick stop,” he replied. “If you are able to work, surely you can manage, right? It would be a shame if you were unable to do your job for Mr Renault. If you get fired again, I may be the only client who would accept you into their house.”
