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The pay was meager, but was enough to rent a two-bedroom apartment for Ali, Patricia, and himself. The first few months were simple enough, with the three of them scraping by. Even with the scanty living, there was nothing but love and contentment in the family. Sadly, all good things must come to an end. Owen would make the discovery a year later that would inevitably allow the dominoes to fall to its current state.
    Owen remembered that night vividly, while strongly pulling the laces on his glove to tighten it. Still sweating after a hard day of fixing flats, oil changes and repairs, he opened the door only to be met with the pungent smell of marijuana. While both Patricia and he were no stranger to the occasional blunt every now and then, there was one ground rule that he demanded from his girlfriend: No drug use with Ali present. He walked to his daughter's room to find her playing with dolls. Hints of Lysol could be smelled throughout the house in an attempt to cover up the dank odor. Immediately, his eyebrows arched and his hands became tight fists. He wanted to scream and yell furiously. Immediately, he called out Patricia's name, causing his daughter to jump in surprise. He could hear some mumbling coming from the closed bathroom door. Still very tense, Owen opened the door with force, causing the door to slam hard into an oddly placed towel rack. Sitting on the closed toilet seat was Patricia. She was holding a glass pipe that held cashed marijuana, but there was still a fair haze in the room, even with the exhaust fan running. On the floor, however, was a small stack of cash that had to be at least $500. With the angry eyes of Owen staring down at her, the baked Patricia calmly stated to let her explain. He remembered the pulsing feeling of his veins in his head almost exploding in rage. She expressed her frustration about being so poor and how she was tired of not contributing. She confirmed that the same friend that they had been buying their weed turned her on to the idea of selling it. Pointing to the floor, she confessed that she could make this amount of cash and more every week just by selling marijuana. He was almost mad enough to hit her, but he couldn't deny the allure of more money, nor disallow her desire to contribute and not be cooped up in the cramped and cheap apartment. They were getting by, but they weren't comfortable. He was sick of living from paycheck to paycheck. There were times where he had to tuck his tail in between his legs and ask his mother for a few bucks. After stomping into the kitchen and taking a shot of whiskey to collect his thoughts, he had it in his mind that no was the right answer. Patricia would eventually see the light and realize she was acting on an impulsive whim.
    But before he could march in there and set their paths straight, little Ali walked into the kitchen, holding one of her dolls in one hand and one of the doll’s detached arms in the other. Her face had disappointment written all over it, but it wasn’t the first time one of her toys broke, and she knew her father could fix them. Kneeling down and examining the toy, it was ridiculous how many times he had to glue and repair her shoddy made knockoff Barbie dolls they purchased from a dollar store. Both he and Patricia wanted to buy her more and better made dolls for their precious little daughter, but reality set in each time they looked at their funds. She deserved better. They all deserved better. As he examined the doll and its dislodged plastic arm, a cockroach scattered from underneath the sink and right by Ali’s feet. She never noticed it, but it gave Owen all the validation he needed. More money was way better than less. With a calmer disposition, Owen returned to the bathroom, deciding that she could continue her business venture, as long as she recommitted to no more drug use while Ali was in the house. With a smile on her face, she agreed.
    Months later and thanks to their extra income, they were