I threw the money in his face. The bills scattered across the floor, soaking in the rainwater that had crept under the door, red as pools of blood.

"Sean, an abortion costs more than this."

He froze. And I turned and walked into the rain.

He kept his word. In just five years, he built a company from nothing, landed on the billionaire list, drove luxury cars, lived in a mansion.

"Your name is Elaine Cox."

Sean's voice dragged me back from the memory. I looked up and saw him toss a stack of bills at me.

The red notes fluttered down and settled at my feet.

"Wait out here by yourself," he said. "Don't let anyone in."

Then he wrapped his arm around Rebecca's waist and walked into the fitting room.

The door closed slowly in front of me. I crouched down and counted the bills.

Not a penny more, not a penny less. Exactly twenty-three hundred dollars.

Enough for half a bottle of my medication.

The fitting room door did nothing to block sound. I heard Rebecca's laughter, soft and breathy, laced with suggestive little moans.

"Sean... you're going to wrinkle the dress..."

Then came his low laugh.

"Let everyone know how much I love you. What's wrong with that?"

Intimate. Sticky-sweet. Each word sliced into me like a blade, carving deeper with every syllable.

I clutched the bills in my fist, listening to Rebecca's coy whimpers, listening to Sean's husky voice.

He said, "Don't bite down so hard."

He said, "Relax."

My face went numb. The pain in my chest swelled until it felt like my heart was bleeding from the inside out.

But I'd left the house without my pills. So I repeated it to myself, over and over: Didn't I abort that baby so I could survive?

And if I'm going to survive, I have to earn money. That's just how it is.

Money doesn't care how you earn it. On your knees or on your feet, it spends the same.

I don't know how long it was before Rebecca finally emerged, her face flushed, a vivid red mark blooming on her neck.

"Sean, this salesgirl gave excellent service. Very obedient."

Sean pulled out another wad of cash and tossed it at me.

"Pick it up on your knees. Consider it a tip."

I knelt. One bill at a time, I gathered them from the floor and pressed them together in my palm.

"Thank you, sir. Very generous of you."

I forced a smile. But he reached down and tilted my chin up with his hand, forcing my eyes to meet his.