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

I put the printed bank confirmation inside the folder, right on top of the final land sale deed.

I closed the cardboard cover.

It was completely plain and unmarked.

I set the folder on the corner of my desk and rested my hand on top of it.

The floorboards creaked out in the hallway.

I was completely alone in the house, but the empty rooms sounded different today.

The developer’s demolition deadline was only nine days away.

Soon this whole building would be bulldozed to make way for paved roads and subdivision plumbing.