Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
“Sit down,” Arthur said.
I stayed by the doorway and kept the brown folder at my side.
“We found some records,” Helen said, her voice tight.
“Can you explain them to us?”
She was holding a coffee mug with both hands.
She didn’t take a sip.
Arthur reached out and pushed a dark leather ledger across the table.
It slid over the wood and stopped near the center.
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