Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
“Exactly,” he said.
“You have thirty-nine million dollars and zero debt.
There’s nothing anyone can dispute.”
“Three weeks until the demolition crew arrives,” I said.
“Will you have your office cleared out by then?” he asked.
“I’ll be packed,” I said.
I left the strip mall and drove toward town.
My truck’s odometer showed two hundred thousand miles, but the engine hummed perfectly.