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

“How much is missing?” I asked.

Arthur closed the leather ledger book.

He pulled it closer to his coffee mug and guarded it with his forearm.

“It isn’t missing,” he said.

“It’s just going toward necessary expenses.”

He picked up a single fry and ate it.

“What kind of expenses?” I asked.

“Family matters,” he said.