Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
“The developer sent a formal notice to our dispatch office,” he said.
“They’re moving the demolition equipment onto the south ridge on Monday.”
“I saw the notice,” I said.
He taped the bottom flaps of the second box and pushed it across the island toward the open pantry door.
He picked up his clipboard from the counter.
“We’re required to have everything out of the main house by Friday,” he said.
“They want to knock this house down first.”
“I understand the timeline,” I said.
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