Seven Crumpled Dollar Bills on a Pine Table in Michigan

looked crisp and clean, resting against the worn gray laminate of the counter.

“We can handle the rent,” Mike said, his voice flat.

“You do not have to carry everything on your own, Mike,” Donald said, rising from his chair and capping his silver pen.

He walked past Mike without making eye contact, his boots clicking on the new linoleum as he headed toward continue reading …