plan was simple, the first of many steps. I needed to open my own bank account, a space for my mo

ng bank teller named Kevin. He smiled

account. We can get that set up for you right now.

ss the counter. He typed my information into

with Mr. Mark Davis. For security purposes, to set up a new individual account, we'll need Mr

, his name was a barrier. Everything was tied to hi

ked, trying to keep my voice even. "

a shared household. But hey, you're engaged to Mark Davis, the CEO of OmniTech, right? Everyone kno

c tech genius, the generous philanthropist. They didn't see the man who checked my credit card statemen

ing. That evening, Mark found me in the kitchen. He

trying to open a secret bank account? Are you hiding something from me? I

to a betrayal. He was accusing me of the very secrecy and control

home called. They want to feature a few of my old pieces in a local artists' showcase. The payment won't be much, just a small stipend. I

non-threatening hobby, and the idea of a "small stipend" soothed his ego. It fit his narrative of me bein

you just say so?" He picked up a pen and signed the form with a flourish. "

hes and my art supplies. I moved them into the guest bedroom at the end of the hall. I changed the s

ding in the doorway. "The lighting is better

n his face. He wasn't angry yet, just... thrown. He was a man who relied

lly, "Don't stay up too

was just a phase, some strange mood I was in. He would think he could fix it, manage it, the way he managed everything els