Thirty-Six Pages of Bank Receipts and the Chicago Mortgage Transfer I Finally Canceled

“Let me refresh the ledger screen,” Fiona whispered.

“One moment, please.”

The line went silent except for the rustle of papers somewhere in the bank branch.

“No,” Fiona said, her whisper returning to the line.

“It isn’t zero.”

“What’s the balance right now?” I asked.

“Twenty dollars even,” Fiona said.

“Did some transfer come in?” I asked.