“Who said I was bankrupt?” I asked.

“Ranata told us,” Desmond said.

He finally looked up.

His face was full of deep pity.

“She said the bank is taking the farm at the end of the month.”

I looked at the stack of folded cardboard boxes on the kitchen island.

I looked down at the cheap canned soup on the floor.

They didn’t know about the thirty-nine million dollars.