An Eleven-Month Paper Trail Revealed Where Eighteen Thousand Dollars Had Really Gone

Ben looked over from his tub, holding an ear of corn under the running water.

“Is that school work, Mom?”

“It’s farm bookkeeping, Ben,” I said.

“Are we getting my track shoes before Monday tryouts?” he asked.

He looked down at his wet, taped left foot and pulled his heel back under the bench.

“We’re going to take care of your shoes,” I said.

Daisy set a wet ear of corn into a wooden basket.

“Why does Uncle Mark have so many hotel receipts?”