I tried the side handles of the bottom crate with both hands, but the plastic box barely came an inch off the floorboards under the weight.

“That’s over five hundred pounds of solid copper,” Irene said, leaning back against the wooden door frame with a quiet sigh.

“Paul Vance is going to need a hand truck just to get them away from his counter.”

“Noah and Lily are already asleep in their rooms,” I said, looking down at the tidy rows of brown paper tubes packed tight inside the black plastic grids.

“You ought to get some sleep too, Becky,” Irene said, patting my shoulder before she drew her knitted sweater snug around her chest.