The Digital Snare

I slip the bank card into my pocket, smoothing my expression into a mask of calm assurance. "It's fine," I say, brushing off his fake concern. "I have some savings of my own."

We move to the dining table. Donovan pours himself a cup of black coffee, his brow furrowing as he sits across from me. "How much do you have saved up?" he asks, his tone laced with worry. "I'm just concerned the houses in