He made two copies and slipped them into two folders.

I put one in my briefcase and one in my desk drawer.

Then he laid a granola bar on the corner of my desk.

“You skipped your breakfast,” he said.

“The coffee was breakfast.”

“The pastry I brought at seven is still sitting on the shelf.” He paused with his hand on the doorframe.

“Nine days until the fifteenth, by the way.

The bank’s notice hasn’t moved.”