THE PAYOFF
Eric froze.
“You’re kidding me,” he stammered. “Are you serious?”
The clerk didn’t answer. He just started counting.
One hundred. Two hundred. Three hundred.
The slap of the bills hitting the counter was rhythmic. Hypnotic.
Eric grabbed his head. He looked like he might pass out.
“Oh my god,” he cried. Tears welled up in his eyes.
He had $1,000 in cash. Enough for a motel. Enough for food for months. Enough to get off the street.
Rahat watched closely. This was the test.
Usually, this is where people run. They grab the cash and vanish.
Eric scooped up the money. He turned around.
He looked at the door. Then he looked at Rahat.
Here it comes, Rahat thought. He’s going to leave.
But Eric didn’t walk out.
He took a step toward Rahat.
And he did the unthinkable.
