C37 CHAPTER 36

“Have you talked to your dad?” Andie whispers from her spot next to me in the last row of pews. I shake my head. “And the deposit that usually comes to my account isn’t there.” Andie takes the Bible in the pew in front of her, fingering the pages. “That sucks.” We’re at the funeral of a man I don’t know—a banker, apparently, who loved fly fishing