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“Where’s your EpiPen?” I asked.

She handed it to me. I checked the fluid. “The soup was really good, by the way. I can see why people want to buy it,” I said, handing the medication back to her.

“Yeah. I need all the income I can get,” she said, putting the pen back in her purse. “I’m paying the minimums now on two extra credit cards I didn’t know I had.”

I stopped to look at her. “Wait… there’s more?”

“There were three,” she said. “The big one that took my tax return and two other ones for five thousand each. I found them when I ran my credit.”

I blinked at her. “Are you getting the money back?”

She drew in a deep breath. “Maybe? I filed a police report, I locked down my credit, and I disputed the charges, but he listed himself as a joint user on the accounts.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it appears that he had permission to use the cards. So I need a lawyer, which I can’t afford. I have to at least pay the minimums while I try and figure it out so my credit doesn’t get worse than it already is. Realistically I’m probably going to end up paying the whole thing.”

I sat back into the sofa. “Damn.”

“Yeah. My dad is a very good criminal, unfortunately.”

“Has he ever gone to jail?”

“Never for as long as he should have.” She nodded toward Mike’s room. “Should we check on him?”

I looked at my watch. It was two thirty. “He’s not due for his medication for another hour and a half. I say we just let him sleep.”

“Okay.”

I studied her while she took her Benadryl. “So what should we do now?” I asked.

“Well, I could run home and get my box of books,” she said, closing her bag.

“That’s not a terrible idea.”

“Are you going to take some home?” she asked. “You have to. Seriously. We’re using your streaming services, it’s the least I can do.”

“Well, if it will make you feel better.”

She scrunched up her face. “I’m sorry if my mom sent you any more weird texts.”

“She didn’t send me anything weird.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wait, come to think of it, she asked me for my Grocery Rewards number—”

She gasped.

“I’m kidding,” I chuckled. “She’s fine.”

She smiled. “Oh! You know what else I’ll bring?”

“What?”

“The bread pudding I made from the sourdough you gave me. I froze it.”

I lit up. I loved bread pudding.