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Ember squinted at it, sure she wasn’t reading it right. She leaned closer, peering, her mouth half open, until the numbers wavering on the page cleared and even upside down made sense. With an audible humph, Ember collapsed back into her chair. “That can’t be right,” she said weakly, disbelieving. “That’s ten times what it’s worth. Twenty! And in this economy…who in their right mind…” She trailed off, her brain suddenly blank. “Well, my dear,” Marguerite said brightly, “like I always say, never look a gift horse in the mouth!” As if squeezed out by a giant, invisible hand that had clamped around her chest, all the air left Ember’s lungs. Never look a gift horse in the mouth. Asher had said those exact words to her—when Dante had told her not to worry about the rent. Marguerite prod
- Writer
