The Wire That Stopped at My Kitchen Table
She pulled it back.
“Wait.” Her finger touched the edge of the case twice, a small nervous habit, before she turned the screen toward me.
The forwarded screenshot was still there, and this time it had not changed before I could read it.
150,000.00.
I stared at it.
“Where did you see that?”
“On Aunt Monique’s message.”
“She sent it to you?”