Frank never mentioned the account again after that talk in the garage. I still get up and pour the coffee the same way. He still heads out the door at seven thirty. The checkbook stays in the drawer now and my hands feel slower when I reach for it each month.

The thing I got wrong was believing that if the numbers added up on paper then nothing else could be missing.

End of story — Part 3 of 3
amomana

amomana

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