My Brother Hid a Recording Module Beneath His Daughter’s Dining Chair
“She won’t take me after this.”
“Ask her.”
She looked at the coffee on her sleeve.
Then she walked out into the cold.
Elena was at the precinct desk with her notebook open, her pen tapping the cover.
“Your brother’s business accounts are frozen,” she said.
“As of ten forty this morning.”
I set my hand on the counter.
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