Eleven Years of Eating Lunch by a Window in Columbus, Ohio, Ended With a Box I Never Expected

In pieces small enough that claims paid them out and nobody blinked.”

Derek leaned back until his chair creaked.

“Janitor paperwork.

This is janitor paperwork.”

“Then explain why the third floor’s sanitation budget ran forty-one thousand a year when the actual supplies cost eleven.” I turned to the last tab.

“The difference went into account four-oh-two under your department.

Four-oh-two doesn’t buy soap.”

Megan’s mouth opened and shut once before any words came out.