“This chemical signature didn’t land in a coffee cup by accident, Raymond.”

He reached over and gripped my forearm, his thumb pressing hard through the heavy wool sleeve of my jacket.

“If you drink three more mugs of that stuff,” Mark said, “your kidneys will start shutting down within two weeks.

You’ll be lying in an emergency room long before the board vote on December fifteenth.”

“Would you sign an official affidavit with these exact lab findings?” I asked.

“I signed the cover page twenty minutes ago,” Mark said.