Every cent.”

“I know you will.” He rested both broad palms flat on the workbench.

“If she needs more, you come back.

I have more.” He said it like a man who had already done the arithmetic.

Maya curled her left fist against her cheek and slept through the whole transaction.

Arthur set a brass washer on the workbench next to her hand.

“For her first tool.” He set it down gently, as if it were already hers.