I thought that once I cut off the money, they would finally disappear.
I was wrong.
At 6:42 the next morning, heavy pounding shook my apartment door.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The sound was so forceful that the floor seemed to vibrate beneath me.
Then Eleanor’s voice rang through the hallway, sharp and furious.
“Open this door, Marissa! Right now! You do not humiliate me in public and walk away from it!”
The air in my bedroom felt suddenly cold.
That was when I understood the truth.
Cutting off the money had not ended the war.
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