Chapter 2

“This month’s living allowance was wired to you by Paulette a while ago. The company’s having cash flow trouble, so don’t throw the money around. Make it stretch.”

The call cut off, and my heart went cold along with it.

Three months ago, Eugene told me his secretary, Paulette, would be handling the household expenses from then on.

I called Paulette to ask for money, and she answered in that bright, smiling voice of hers.

“Sylvia, Mr. Henson’s been strapped for cash lately, so he’s tightened the household budget. Try to make it stretch.”

When the money landed, I stared at it in disbelief.

“Eugene only gave me eight hundred dollars?”

Her smile thinned. “I’m only the secretary. This is what Mr. Henson instructed, of course.”

But before this, I’d had ten thousand a month, and Eugene still complained I spent too little.

“Silly Sylvia, you’re my wife. Everything I earn is meant to be spent on my wife.”

He remembered how I’d crammed into that rented apartment with him back in the early days, and he swore he’d give me the best of everything.

But now, eight hundred dollars to feed me and the baby both. How could that ever be enough?

I wanted to tell Eugene the money wasn’t quite enough, and instead I got a cold notice from him.

“Paulette says you call three times a day. It’s seriously hurting my productivity.”

“From now on, book an appointment with Paulette before you call. Once it’s approved, she’ll transfer you through to me.”

“Also, Paulette says you’ve been complaining the money’s too little. Grow up a little.”

After that, Eugene’s phone was basically unreachable.

Because every time I tried to book, Paulette turned me down on the grounds that he was too busy.

When the money came in, I went to the store and bought the cheapest formula there was.

One can was two hundred seventy. Two cans came to five hundred forty.

That left two hundred sixty, and after the water and electric bills, there was almost nothing.

The second month it was eight hundred again.

I bought diapers and two bags of instant noodles, and by the time the third month’s eight hundred landed, there were only three diapers left, the formula can was empty, and the noodles were gone.

All I could do was keep scraping by.

The third month’s eight hundred had just come in when the nanny saw it.

She sneered with contempt. “You really can’t afford to live, can you? What’s eight hundred dollars supposed to cover? If you’ve got no money, don’t hire a nanny.”

“And my wages haven’t been paid in three months. Keep stalling and I’ll take you to court.”

She yanked off her apron right there and walked out on the spot.

Thinking back on all of it, past the despair, I drew in a deep breath.

I scrolled to a familiar name in my contacts and dialed.

“Are you busy? Could you come look after the baby? The baby’s out of formula, and I haven’t eaten in a day…”

My voice choked up more with every word.

“I’m sorry. I know this is a huge imposition.”

“But I really have no other option. I don’t know a soul in this city. Yours is the only number I have…”

There was only two seconds of silence on the other end. “Wait for me at home. I’ll be right there.”

Caleb. My husband Eugene’s college roommate, and his closest friend.

He’d been a groomsman at our wedding, and during the toasts he’d laughed and said, if Eugene ever mistreats you, I’ll be the first one to object.

I never thought those words would come true so soon.

In under forty minutes, the doorbell rang.

I opened the door, and Caleb was standing there with two big bags in his hands, his forehead soaked with sweat.

He saw the state I was in and froze for a moment.

“Sylvia, don’t cry.”

“Give the baby to me.”

He handed me the crab-roe buns and lean-pork porridge from the takeout bag. “Eat first, while it’s hot.”

Then he pulled two cans of the best formula out of the bag and went to make a bottle for the baby.

My hands shook too hard to hold the chopsticks, and after two sips of porridge my stomach turned.