I went back to school in the fall with a bank account that was finally mine. The money was not enough to make me independent forever, but it was enough to make me free. I quit the grocery store. I took the shuttle to campus. I told Professor Halvorsen that I was sorry for everything she had seen and she told me to stop apologizing and start writing my thesis.
The fall was quiet. I did not go home for Thanksgiving. I did not go home for Christmas. My mother sent a card in December with a check for two hundred dollars and a note that said, "I hope you're well." I cashed the check because it was mine. I did not call.
Marissa called me once, in November, from the lodge.
"He told me everything," she said. "About the money. About the trust."
"Okay."
"I'm sorry."
"Are you?"
"I don't know."
