Instead, I listened because desperate people always listen one second too long.
My landlord wanted rent, Owen needed shoes, and pride had never paid an electric bill, I didn’t have a choice.
So I went to meet her.
Owen didn’t smile.
***
Celeste’s office smelled like lemon polish and money.
“I have a shift in an hour,” I said.
“I’ll be brief, Sadie.” She folded her hands. “I’m offering you $2,000 a month.”….
“For what?”
“Your name.”
I stared at her.
“I’ll be brief, Sadie.”
“My son, Jonah, is serving twelve years,” she said. “He needs a wife on paper. Visit twice a month, write letters, and show the court he still has family. Courts like roots. A wife gives him roots.”
“You want me to marry a prisoner?”
“I want you to make a practical decision.”
“Is he dangerous?”
“No. Entitled, careless, and foolish, yes. Dangerous, no.”
“Why me?”
Her smile was soft enough to cut with. “Because you understand responsibility.”
“You want me to marry a prisoner?”
I should have walked out.
