Holsten's refusal to accept his wealth was even more confounding than his wealth itself was. To have such access — such freedoms and deny its privileges was … idiotic. The money he possessed didn't inherently mean he had to give up his passions or goals. Holsten could use it to fund travels, to fund other's travels. It could do such good, and he was squandering it.

"Fine." She huffed, quite obviously not satisfied by his explanations. Hiding his status wasn't noble, he still wasn't genuine. Not like her. Not like Alfred, who was dying. "I know you're good at your job, I wouldn't have asked for your help if you weren't." Writing to him hadn't been a coy move to see him again. They could never be intimate again, and she would remain all the same. "But…I thought you knew me. Knew I wouldn't turn my back on you because of it. The money isn't why I'm pissed." It was a contributing factor, yes. She still was deeply unsettled by his family's wealth.

"I thought you trusted me, that we were friends. Clearly not, I see that now." This was by far the most emotionally charged conversation they ever had, Jo certainly despised feeling this vulnerable. Losing friendships was a common theme for her over the past five years (graduating from school did that) but Holsten was the first friend she was set to lose from her new life and it stung. "I thought I knew you." Jo sighed as her shoulders slumped in defeat.