Thirty-Nine Million Dollars and a Brown Folder on the Kitchen Table
I stood behind her leather chair.
She opened a spreadsheet full of rows of numbers and complicated charts.
“What is this?” I asked.
“These are the agricultural failure rates for Ohio over the last five years,” she said.
“I pulled them up on Tuesday.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because Desmond and I care about you.
Look at the trend line here in column D.”