"You’ll be scraping by for table scraps by Tuesday," Chloe sneered across the crowded community center potluck, flicking my family photo album into the slop bucket while she sipped her overpriced oat milk latte. She didn't know I already had the keys to her entire real estate portfolio.

I stepped back from the podium. The fluorescent lights suddenly felt warmer. I packed my blue folder into my canvas tote bag. I walked out into the crisp autumn air and felt the wind against my cheeks.

I didn't keep the building for long. I sold the deed to a local co-op for a fair market price. The check cleared on a Tuesday morning. I bought a quiet house on a tree-lined street three towns over. I planted rosemary and sage in the backyard.

My mornings are slow now. I drink my coffee on a painted porch while watching the neighborhood kids walk to school. The print shop keeps me busy, but I leave the overtime for other people. I finally learned how to rest without asking for permission.