namics." He stood on a small stage, beaming under the lights. He wore a tailored suit that probably c

wear frayed shirts and worry about rent. This

ce dripping with false sincerity. "It's a revolution in data management! We're p

s standing in the back, holding the divorce settlement check he had couriered over that

ane, is so confident in our vision that she's rolling he

with a mixture of pity and admiration. The scorne

he polished floor. I stopped a few feet

Mark," I said, my voice clear and

ile fa

, holding up the check. "This is a settlement,

deep red. He had tried to spin our divorce into a PR s

is composure cracking. "What do you think you'r

hat's mine,"

oney clip, and peeled off a stack of hundred-dol

pathetic money and get out of m

floor like dead leaves.

ng onto his. "By the way, have you spoken to the real estate agent about

ce. "What are you talking about? Of

e, sharp and high, cut through the air.

was tight in all the right places and a diamond necklace that glittere

triumphant. "Mark and I have some w

looked relieved, grabbing onto Sarah like a life raft.

ning her gaze to me. Her eyes were cold and victorious. "Right

all. I wore a secondhand dress. We couldn't afford a reception. Mark had pro

only I could hear. "He's mine, Jane. The money, th

is worth more than you'll see in your entire life. Y

. She wasn't a victor. She was just another one of M

brating a future built on a foundation of lies,

, a small, genuine smile on my f

f their glittering, fragile world, leaving the money o