“Mark—”
“And we’re fixing the house,” I continued. “Not as a ‘treat.’ Not as ‘wasting money.’ As basic human dignity.”
Her mouth tightened.
“I don’t need dignity,” she whispered.
“Yes,” I said, voice firm. “You do.”
She looked away.
I lowered my voice.
“You saved me from becoming destitute,” I said. “Let me save you from thinking you deserve discomfort.”
She continue reading …
