She counted it twice, even though she already knew.
Formula cost eighteen dollars. That was the cheap one. The kind Juniper couldn’t tolerate because it upset her stomach so badly she’d scream for hours. The sensitive kind—the one recommended by the pediatrician—was twenty-four dollars and ninety-nine cents.
She’d run the numbers a hundred times.
They never changed.
Her phone buzzed on the counter.
RENT OVERDUE — FINAL NOTICE.
Twelve days late.
She closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the wall.
Across the river, Manhattan glittered like a different universe. Skyscrapers lit like jewelry boxes. Rooftop parties. Champagne. Apartments that cost more than she would earn in her lifetime.
Three months ago, she had almost belonged to that world.
Not wealthy.
