Waving the Proof
I stepped quietly toward the door and pressed my eye to the brass peephole. The distorted glass showed Sarah standing right behind Mark, her face twisted in absolute distress.
Mark held a crumpled piece of paper in his raised fist, shaking it violently at the door as he shouted.
I recognized the bank logo immediately, even through the fisheye lens. They had opened the envelope and finally understood the magnitude of the mistake they made last night.