Holdings.”
I stared at her.
She angled the monitor slightly.
I couldn’t make out numbers, only account categories: operating reserve, family trust, charitable foundation, real-estate division.
Instead of racing, my pulse seemed to slow.
“Daniel told me his father owned a hardware store.”
The teller gave a nervous laugh. “His father owned the building the hardware store was in. And about forty others.”
That evening, I set the card on our kitchen table.
Daniel looked at it, then at me.
“You went to the bank.”
“Yes.”
He shut his eyes. “
