“One hundred and twenty twenty-dollar bills,” I said.

“Every one of them smelled like fryer oil from my tip envelope.”

“My cousin looked at that place during the estate appraisal,” Patty said.

“He said the fuse box has six sixty-amp screw-in fuses with brittle knob-and-tube wiring running through the attic.”

“We know,” I said.

“Nate is going to pull the electrical permit tomorrow.”

“How much do you have left in your savings account right now?” Patty asked.

“Eighty-four dollars,” I said.