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with my aunt. It was all she could do to keep a roof
over our heads. One year she arranged to leave me with my cousins
here in the city. She was growing too old and weak to take care of
me. I hated it and cried for days. I begged to go home to my aunt
the same way I cried for my parents. The cousins weren’t always
nice to me.” She sat in a chair next to Claire and pulled her legs
up, hugging them. “They really resented my being there, and I
wasn’t fond of the city at all, but I got used to it. And in the
end, I met Jonathan.” She skipped over the tumultuous courtship and
dramatic ending of her relationship with Victor Drayton immediately
prior. “Things have a way of working out. We’ll be okay, Claire,
you’ll see.”
    Claire looked at her friend with sympathetic
eyes and reached for her hand. “I had no idea you’d been through
all that, Ava.”
    In fact, none of them knew much about Ava’s
past. One day she was just there in Jonathan’s life and heart as if
she’d been there always. At first, there were questions about
Jonathan’s apparent obsession with this woman who had no family or
social connections, and who very much seemed to appear out of thin
air. Nevertheless, a life busy with whirlwind parties, extravagant
galas, and overseas vacations easily avoided or redirected the
questions.
    “It was never worth mentioning until now.”
Ava shrugged again.
     
    ∞∞∞
     
    In the card room, Jonathan, Caleb, and Aryl
were still cold. Jonathan got up and stoked the fire. Leaning one
hand on the wall, he stared at the flames for a long while.
    Aryl glanced from Jonathan to Caleb and back.
Jonathan’s expression was a mix of disbelief and defeat. Aryl was
positive his friend had aged five years in the span of a few hours.
Jonathan had been defined by his success and was now completely
lost. Mentally, he was still on his knees in the middle of the
Exchange. Caleb was staring at the grain pattern of the table with
his eyes slightly narrowed. Aryl knew his wheels were already
turning, looking for answers. Aryl wasn’t so much the type to look
for solutions but was able to see what others would pass by. When
opportunity presented itself, Aryl was the one who knew what to do
with it. He focused on Jonathan again.
    “We better get started, Jon,” he said
quietly. Jonathan’s head wobbled and he rubbed the stubble shadow
on his face. He returned to the card table and sighed deeply.
    “Where in hell do we start?” he asked as he
poured another drink. The conversation began with recanting the
events of the day and the last week with disbelief, anger, and even
fear. A long series of I can’t believe and If only we had
statements quickly grew old for Aryl.
    “We all know what happened,” Aryl
interjected. “We better figure out what we’re going to do.” Aryl
was never one to look back. He realized that the chips had fallen,
and he had to cut the losses and move on.
    “You’re right. Got any ideas?” Caleb tipped
up his shot glass as Aryl sat back and crossed his arms.
    “I guess it comes down to two things. First,
we secure a roof over our heads. The auction house will send
someone out soon to begin the liquidation; the vultures won’t wait
long. Second, we secure jobs of some kind, any kind. The cash we
have won’t hold us for long. We have maybe a day or two to go
through our things and get together our personal belongings. We can
take clothes, some basic household items and sentimental things, as
long as they aren’t of much value. Everything else will be
auctioned to pay our debts.”
    Jonathan leaned back, rubbed his tired eyes
and then rested his hands on the top of his head. “Why the hell did
we go all in? We were so stupid. We might have a pot to piss in if
we’d–”
    “Where do we work?” Caleb interrupted.
    “I know a couple guys down at the shipping
dock,” Aryl offered. “I helped them out a few years back when they
got into some trouble. They owe me a favor. Maybe I could