The main floor was crowded with the Friday lunch rush.

The marble floor echoed with the sound of dress shoes and quiet conversations.

A voice drifted over the low hum of the counting machines.

“I just need to know what the penalty is for early withdrawal.”

I stopped walking.

I knew that soft, hesitant voice.

I stepped behind a thick marble pillar near the loan officers’ desks and peeked around the cold stone.

Helen stood at teller window four.