“It said I could bring a guest with me.” She pointed to the words at the bottom of the invitation. I looked down to read it.
Two guests per invitation.
I wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all.
Was I being punked? Would someone jump out at me from behind and yell “Surprise! You’re being played. Don’t worry, things are fine and you’re not on the verge of losing your childhood home.”
My lips trembled at the thought.
A hundred and fifty thousand dollars.
I could do a lot with a hundred and fifty thousand dollars. I could pay off the debt and I could send Emilia to school, at least for her first year. It would solve everything.
The question was, what was I willing to do for that much money?
I didn’t fucking know, but with the way I was feeling, I would have sold my soul to the devil.