Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table

“Don’t insult your sister.

She’s the only reason you still have a roof over your head.

She cried for twenty minutes apologizing for keeping your secrets.”

He turned and looked at the barn, the tall empty silos, the unplanted fields.

He looked at the rusted gate.

“I should have shut this place down ten years ago,” Arthur said.

“The farm is perfectly fine,” I said.

“It’s over,” Arthur said.