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Money is Money
“I can’t believe I said that,” Bev said, pacing back and forth in their dorm room. “To a billionaire.”
“So what? You told him you know your way around a cardboard box. That could mean anything,” Katie said, studying her reflection in the full-length mirror on the closet door. “I really like this spacesuit. Doctor Randall said we get to take it home as a souvenir. Usually when I get free stuff, it’s a lousy T-shirt that is three sizes too big.”
“Can we focus on me for a moment?” Bev asked. “Everyone associates homeless people with living in cardboard boxes. Where would we even get a box that would be big enough to fit inside? It’s not like people just throw those things out on the street.” She sighe
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