Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
“You’re a remarkably consistent client,” he said.
“Your farm operated in the black every single quarter for a decade.”
I picked up the top sheet.
It felt heavy in my hand.
The numbers showed the steady profit I had kept up since I took over the eighty acres.
“Not everyone believes that,” I said.
“The numbers don’t lie,” Mr.
Gable said.
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