Camille threw an envelope onto the kitchen counter. My former employer had mailed confirmation of my severance package: twelve months of salary, unused bonuses, and the payout of stock I had accumulated during nearly a decade with the company. Together, it was enough to keep me financially secure while I searched for another position. Camille had apparently opened the letter after it was mistakenly delivered to her parents’ address, which was still listed as an emergency mailing address. “You let me leave thinking we were broke,” she shouted. “How long were you planning to hide this?”
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