The tiny metal click sounded like a staple punching through paper.

He laid it on the table and nudged it across with two fingers, and I slipped it into the front pocket of the folder.

“Gloria,” Walt said, to the carpet.

“Sign it.”

She signed at four o’clock with David’s pen, then took a second butterscotch from the dish and didn’t unwrap it.

“The wire has seven days,” David said, capping his pen.

“On day eight, the referral moves forward.”