Her heart pounded and her vision blurred as she tried to understand why she felt so frightened. The kitchen was dark and, judging by her stiff and sore muscles as they protested her movement, the sun had probably set some time ago. Gingerly, she lowered her head back to the table. She'd spent the last few days trying to work out her financial predicament and must've fallen asleep at the table. Right now she couldn't even think of a single reason to move. Everything was gone. Her husband, the future she thought she had, and now any hope of fiscal independence. The doorbell rang, probably for second time, and she realized it was most likely the reason she'd woken in the first place. She glanced at the clock, blinking in surprise when she saw the time. Nearly eleven p.m. Whoever kept ringing her doorbell had very, very bad timing. She swayed a little on her seat, undecided whether to answer the door or not. With the house so dark, maybe they would give up and go away. Bec had no idea who could be calling on her so late, and quite frankly she was in no mood for visitors.
