We had raised six hundred eighteen dollars.

Clarence examined every receipt.

He was especially moved by a note from Emily, the cashier who had first noticed the missing supplies.

She had written that she was glad he was getting help, but she hoped no one would ask employees to ignore theft again.

Clarence asked me to read the note a second time.

“She’s right,” he said.

“Would you take her a letter for me?”

He wrote slowly on stationery from Abigail’s old desk.