Page 1 of The Obvious Check
Prologue
1 Year Ago
“I love it.”
My fingers skim the tattered brown couch, taking in the scratchy, worn-out fabric. There are holes, more than I can count, but the stuffing pushing through looks soft. Inviting, even, and would be a much better place to crash than the back seat of my car.
I draw in a deep breath, the kind that feels like my first in years. The relief is so overwhelming, it almost doesn’t feel real.
I can’t believe this is happening.
Smiling to myself, I take in the shoebox-sized apartment. The walls might be scuffed, the window paint is peeling, and there’s this funky smell coming from the fast-food place downstairs, but none of that matters. What matters is this place is perfect and it’s mine.
Finally, I won’t have to sleep in my car anymore. I’ll have somewhere to come back to. SomewhereAdleycan come back to.
“Great,” the realtor, Daniel, mutters from the kitchen, not even sparing me a glance. He’s too busy counting the money that took me three months to scrape together.
Every sleepless night, every aching bone is represented in those neat piles of cash.
My pulse pounds and my stomach clenches with something that feels a lot like pride because I did this. I worked my ass off and survived. I made this happen and now I’ve got an apartment of my own.
I haven’t truly been able to call something mine since…
Never mind.
I shut those thoughts down before they can take hold, focusing instead on the man in front of me as his fingers move from one pile of money to the next. Slow and methodical, I’m on edge, waiting for him to finish counting.
Just give me the damn keys already.
When he takes the last stack from the counter, my body buzzes with excitement. I can’t wait to tell Adley she won’t have to waste another day in that attic while those people keep pretending to care. She was only eight when we lost our parents and was barely old enough to understand what death meant, let alone survive the weight of it.
I wasn’t there for her. Not the way a big sister should’ve been, at least. I couldn’t be.
“All right,” Daniel says, stuffing the cash back into the scruffy, white envelope.
The guilt rattling my bones silences for the first time. I couldn’t be there for her then, but I can finally make this right.
“Deposit’s good. Now I just need the three months’ rent upfront.”
What?
We stand in silence as I try to hold back any emotion threatening to spill.
“Three months?” My brows crease and my voice is a little shaky, unable to mask the panic clawing up my throat.
He smiles at me with his toothy, slightly menacing grin as he holds his hand out.
I take a couple of steps back, hitting the dried, unwatered plant beside me, feeling just as drained of life.
“But I just gave you three months’ rent. That should be enough.”
Can he tell I’m panicking?
He looks at my chipped pleather bag slumped on the counter next to him, saying everything without saying anything at all.
Is there more money in there?
No. I only had one white envelope that I’d stuff religiously with cash from my waitressing gig. The only other things in there are my ten-year-old phone and a key to my car.
