He spoke in a slow, dry, official rhythm that made the room feel unusually quiet.

The walls of his office were thick glass, muffling the sounds of the lobby outside.

He opened a window on his monitor and typed in my account number.

“We usually mail these out at the end of the fiscal year,” Frank said.

I told him I needed physical copies printed today for a full household audit.

Frank opened a thick manila client folder on his desk and began checking the dates against his screen.

He clicked his mouse several times.