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

Helen grabbed the edge of the table.

Her knuckles went white against the wood.

“Fay,” Helen asked.

“Is this real?”

“The wire cleared my account this afternoon,” I said.

Ranata walked over and looked over Arthur’s shoulder.

She stared down at the number on the page.

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out.