Her name was Bonnie Abbott. She explained she was an orphan who worked as a "hospital runner," helping patients navigate the system. Her fee was a flat twenty dollars.
Twenty dollars. Blake spent more than that on snacks in a single hour.
Impulsively, I transferred two hundred to her account. Almost immediately, my phone buzzed. She'd sent back one hundred and eighty.
"I only did twenty dollars' worth of work," she said firmly, eyes serious. "I can't take ten times what I earned. Money doesn't fall from the sky."
My vision blurred. Blake only ever complained his allowance was too small; he never considered the cost of earning it. Yet this child, who had nothing, understood the value of every cent.
Bonnie gave me her number for next time. I smiled through the ache in my chest and thanked her.
I returned to the empty house. I'd just collapsed onto the sofa when my phone rang. Harrison.
His voice was ice.
"Sara. I told you to meet us. Why aren't you here? Vera's stomach flared up because we waited. She's on an IV right now."
He didn't wait for an explanation.
"Get to the hospital immediately. You need to apologize to her. Bring a fruit basket on your way."