Computer repairs.
Freelance bookkeeping.
By college, I worked before class, after class, and nearly every weekend.
I earned a full academic scholarship, graduated debt-free, built a small online bookkeeping business, and saved almost everything I could.
At twenty-two, I bought my first house.
No trust fund.
No hidden inheritance.
No rescue.
That Tuesday, a man in a gray polo walked up my driveway.
“Evelyn Carter?”
“Yes?”
He handed me a thick envelope.
“You’ve been served.”
I laughed at first.
Then I opened it.
And stopped breathing.
