while Claire continued telling a story about a disastrous moving day. I slipped my card into the folder and handed it back, barely interrupting her.
A few minutes later, the waitress returned.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she said quietly. “Your card didn’t go through.”
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I felt my face grow hot.
“There must be a mistake,” I said. “Could you try it again?”
“Of course.”
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She walked away, and I reached for my phone. My banking app showed
