needs.
There was a payment schedule.
Conditions.
Confidentiality clauses.
My parents’ signatures appeared at the bottom.
So did Ben’s.
A scream tore from my throat.
“You sold yourself to marry my sister?”
Ben flinched.
“No.”
“Your signature is right there!”
“Please listen.”
“She is fighting for her life while you stand here holding a contract that paid you to become her husband.”
“I never took the money.”
“You agreed to it!”
People at the far end of the corridor turned toward us.
I no longer cared.
“Was she a job to you?” I demanded. “Was that what the wedding was? A business arrangement?”
Ben sank against the wall.
Tears ran down his face.
“I never cashed a single check.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Every payment they sent went into a separate account in Rosie’s name.”
He pulled another document from his pocket.
“Every dollar. The original amount, the interest, everything.”
I
