The Price of a Perfect Angel

w her well. The resentment would be building, the jealous

y, my rent is late again." "Can you cover dinner? I' m so broke until pay

even got her the receptionist job at my firm, hoping it would help her get on her feet. I sa

ver understood that my success was a constant,

She claimed she had a "dust allergy" and needed the bed by the window, the one with the better view. She then

, tears welling up. "I' ll pay f

paid for it. An

stomach turn. How h

by the coffee machine, her eyes red-rimmed.

"I can' t sit in a coach seat for twelve hours. My motion s

comes, I

dry eyes with a tissue. "But it' s not that. I' m just... poor, Gabby.

a perfect blend of desperation and s

oke. I caved, bought the sleeper cab

ng in the air, enjoying the flicker of panic in her

hat, Wendy," I said f

ffer a solution. I just stood ther

e you could just... lend me the money for half the sleep

pt lookin

bby? I' ll d

real now. Her plan

ought. "Well, I already bought my co

he said, a little too

lowly. "I don' t

hing her squirm. It was a small, bitter

rning of our trip,

so they surprised me and upgraded my ticket to a private sleeper! So I

ph, thinking she had won. Thinking my soft-he

. She was too self-absorbed to

orner of my desk, right where I knew Wendy would pass on her way out. She was a notorious scavenger, always

steless powder. A powerful, delayed-action laxati

ct ti

m feeling settling over me.