Edward sat across from me with a half-eaten turkey club on his white oval plate.

“He sounded very convincing,” I said, staring down at my untouched cup of black tea.

“What if I misunderstood the numbers?

What if Gary missed a page in the agreement?

What if the loan was completely legal?”

“Max is a liar,” Edward said plainly.

“He said the forty-one thousand two hundred dollars was a court-approved business loan to cover old tax liability.”

Edward set his paper napkin down on the laminate table.