Forty-One Thousand Dollars and a Yellow Paper Envelope
“That’s a long time to lose in one afternoon,” Arthur said.
Victor scratched at his chin until the skin went pink.
“You’re going to press charges.
Everyone says that first.”
“I’m not going to press charges.
I’m going to hand you a page and a pen.”
He put the bag on the table and left his hand on top of it.
“Four hundred dollars,” he said.