Fourteen Years and a Single Ledger from the Autumn Election

what you went through in the basement.”

“I am not taking it,” I said, my hand resting on the edge of the paper.

I slid the unsigned check back across the polished wooden table toward him.

The basement of the G Street office was cold at nine the next morning, the air smelling of old damp brick and yellowing newsprint.

David, the young records clerk with continue reading …