Forty-One Thousand Dollars and a Yellow Paper Envelope

Paper is a wonderful thing.” He looked at my door.

“Do you want me to call her now?”

I didn’t move.

“What do you think is in it?”

Dustin’s smile thinned.

“I think Dad left you a key to something.

I think he was too sick to use it himself.” He tapped the hood of his car.

“I want it before Friday.”