Janey opened the binder, but she pressed her eyes closed. She carried a huge weight on her shoulders and in her mind, and sometimes she felt like she could only move her arms. Flail would actually be a better word for how much progress she’d made in the past couple of years.
Flail In a moment of time, she could think about a dozen things. The emails she needed to respond to. Her boss who expected her to call with her date of return this morning. The texts from Sean Masterson. The ones from her boyfriend in Jersey—one of them anyway. The three buckets in the house that caught any water that leaked through the roof. The payment due dates for a dozen different accounts. The airplane ticket in her cart she hadn’t finished buying yet.
She couldn’t, because she didn’t have the money in her acc
