Eight Hundred Thousand Dollars and a Missing Name on a Ledger

of the stale coffee they had brought in from the lobby.

By half past eleven, the Wilshire Boulevard office felt like a place I had only visited once or twice.

I stood by my desk with a cardboard storage box I had found in the supply closet, the brown cardboard rough against my palms.

The associate director, a young man of thirty-two continue reading …