Seven Crumpled Dollar Bills on a Pine Table in Michigan

yellow pad, drawing a hard circle around it.

“That leaves Donald’s brother with the remaining property,” Shark said, looking up at Mike.

“We need to get this bike back to the apartment before the kid gets home from school,” Mike said.

He lifted the small bicycle by the frame, the metal cold against his palms.

“Sarah is waiting at the clubhouse,” Shark continue reading …