“My dad owns every law firm in this province,” the lawyer’s daughter laughed after ramming her brand-new Tesla into my old Subaru

a bit for taxes, I imagined. All three were drawn from Victoria’s personal account.

The first check came with a handwritten note, the paper thick and expensive, the ink slightly blotchy where a pen had hesitated.

It read:

I got a part-time job. This is taking longer than I thought, which I guess is the point. Thank you for not destroying my life when continue reading …