Gemotions

The leather was cracked, the stitching coming undone. Inside, a wad of bills that looked like enough to choke a horse. A chill snaked up Beatrice’s spine as she held it. She'd spent the morning cleaning toilets, the smell clinging to her like a second skin. Now, this.

Her jaw tightened. Who just *left* a treasure like this? It was probably some trust fund brat, careless with their parent's money. Beatrice shoved the wallet into her purse, a burning sensation blossoming in her chest.

She went to the corner store, buying a lottery ticket. The clerk, a kid barely old enough to shave, barely looked at her. Her hand shook as she scratched off the numbers.