Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
The equipment had never broken.
I looked over at Desmond standing by the sink.
He was staring straight down at his leather shoes.
“Did you know about this?” I asked him.
Desmond kept his eyes on the floor tiles.
He took a slow breath and didn’t say a word.
“Leave my husband out of this,” Ranata said.
“We’re here to talk about your debts.”