The dinner table was a folding card table that wobbled whenever someone cut their food. Six people were squeezed around it, elbows bumping.
Elara placed a large pot in the center. Beef stew. The aroma was rich, savory, filling the small room. But when she ladled it out, Journey noticed the ratio. It was mostly potatoes and carrots. There were only a few scraps of meat.
Kamron didn't pick up his fork. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled white envelope. It was stained with sweat and dirt.
He pushed it across the table toward Journey.
"There's two thousand dollars in there," Kamron said quietly. "It's everything we have saved."
The silence was deafening. Lucas dropped his fork. It clattered against the plate.
"Dad!" Lucas yelled. "That's for Brian's specialist! That's the medical fund!"
"Quiet!" Kamron slammed his hand on the table. "Journey has nothing. She needs a start. We take care of family."
Journey looked at the envelope. It was thin. Two thousand dollars. In her world, that was a pair of shoes. Here, it was life or death. It was Brian's health.
Her chest tightened. She thought of the check in her purse. One million dollars. But she couldn't use it yet. It was a large certified check; depositing it into the Cobbs' account immediately would raise red flags with the IRS and possibly alert the media before the money even cleared. She needed to be smarter than just throwing cash at the problem.
She placed her hand over the envelope. Lucas looked like he wanted to stab her with his butter knife.
She slid the envelope back to Kamron.
"I have money," Journey said. "The Kensingtons gave me a severance package."
Kamron frowned, worry etching deeper lines into his forehead. "How much? Is it enough? Rent is high in the city."
"It's enough for a while," Journey lied smoothly. "And I have a job."
Lucas scoffed. "Doing what? Professional rich girl consultant?"
"Online consulting," Journey said smoothly. "Freelance. It pays well."
Mason was watching her, chewing slowly. He was analyzing every micro-expression.
Journey reached into her pocket. She pulled out a roll of cash she kept for emergencies. It was a reasonable amount for a struggling freelancer.
"Actually," she said, placing twelve hundred dollars on the table. "I want to pay rent. This is twelve hundred. Eight hundred for rent, and four hundred for... groceries and bills."
"No!" Elara gasped. "You are family. We don't take rent."
"It's fair market value for a room in Astoria," Journey insisted, though she knew it was generous for a shared apartment. "If you don't take it, I go to a hotel tonight."
Kamron looked at the money, then at Journey's determined face. He saw the pride there. It mirrored his own.
"Okay," he whispered. "We will put it in savings for you."
Lucas stared at the crisp bills. His face turned a splotchy red. He looked down at his plate, ashamed of his outburst.
"Eat," Nolan said softly. "It's getting cold."
Journey took a bite of a potato. It was over-salted. It was mushy.
It was delicious.
Lucas cleared his throat. He used his fork to spear the only large piece of beef in his bowl. He dropped it onto Journey's plate.
"I hate gristle," he mumbled, refusing to look at her.
Journey looked at the meat, then at Lucas's red ears. She smiled.
"Thanks, Lucas."
