Walt’s voice rolled across the bay like thunder. “Folks, before anyone leaves, you need to know where tonight’s money is going. Every cent of it goes to Wesley Hartman’s medical bills, and I will hand it over myself.” Nobody moved. Then he turned to Dennis and said, “And Dennis, stay right where you are, because you and I are not finished.” Dennis’s face lost all its color.

Walt reached into his jacket and drew out a white envelope with my name written across the front. The room was silent enough to hear the coffee urn hiss. “A few days after Dennis stood on your porch, he walked into my office and handed me this,” he said. “He made me promise not to say a word until Lorna’s second dinner was over. Tonight I am breaking that promise, because she deserves to know what’s inside.” My hands began to shake.