The document did not explain what was inside that second folder.

I sat alone under the bright fluorescent light, staring at the manila envelope resting next to the ceramic salt shaker.

At nine o’clock the next morning, I pulled into lane two at the Oak Ridge Community Bank drive-through.

I signed the back of my school district paycheck and placed it in the plastic cylinder along with a handwritten note asking for a printout of our joint savings ledger.

The pneumatic tube pulled the capsule up into the chute with a sharp rush of air.