to pay from his checking account.
“Why are you charging groceries and gas to a hidden credit card?”
He took a deep breath.
“Because I spent the money from checking.”
“On what?”
Nobody moved.
Then he whispered two words.
“Sports betting.”
I felt as though the air had left the room.
“Since when?”
“Spring.”
Spring.
The same season we saw Nora on the ultrasound.
The same months I’d been calculating maternity leave, hospital expenses, childcare costs, and how many extra shifts I could safely work.
While I was preparing for
