The balance read $12,408 and had read $12,408 for nine days, sitting above a withdraw button rendered in the specific grey of things that no longer work. She was thirty-three. She freelanced logos for dental practices and CrossFit gyms. The support chat was a cartoon robot; it called her ticket very important and closed itself after four minutes of inactivity.

There was nobody to call. The company was registered somewhere with a flag she had never seen, and the money existed only as a number a stranger's server had agreed to display. She kept the tab open for six more weeks and refreshed it most mornings, watching a number that belonged to her in every sense except the one that mattered.