Once the money reaches the receiving side.

There was a geography to it, then — a window of time while the money was still in motion, passing hand to hand through intermediary banks, not yet landed, not yet gone.

My whole hope, I realized, was going to live inside that window, and the window was measured in days, and I did not yet know how many of them I had.”

I slid the statement toward him but kept one finger over the account number — an old reflex, and a good one.