“There.

Now sit down before the coffee gets cold.”

His office smelled like pencil shavings and hot dust from the fan in the corner.

A cardboard box sat on the desk with the flaps torn open, and ledger books stood stacked inside it like bricks.

“Where did those come from?”

“Your father’s basement.

He kept the originals at home.” Arthur poured.

“Brenda never thought to look under the Christmas decorations.”