"Take it. It's yours. I'll earn more. Just please don't go..."
I threw the money in his face. The bills scattered across the floor, soaking in the rainwater that had crept under the door, red as pools of blood.
"Sean, an abortion costs more than this."
He froze. And I turned and walked into the rain.
He kept his word. In just five years, he built a company from nothing, landed on the billionaire list, drove luxury cars, lived in a mansion.
"Your name is Elaine Cox."
Sean's voice dragged me back from the memory. I looked up and saw him toss a stack of bills at me.
The red notes fluttered down and settled at my feet.
"Wait out here by yourself," he said. "Don't let anyone in."
Then he wrapped his arm around Rebecca's waist and walked into the fitting room.
The door closed slowly in front of me. I crouched down and counted the bills.
Not a penny more, not a penny less. Exactly twenty-three hundred dollars.
Enough for half a bottle of my medication.
The fitting room door did nothing to block sound. I heard Rebecca's laughter, soft and breathy, laced with suggestive little moans.
"Sean... you're going to wrinkle the dress..."
Then came his low laugh.