I didn’t think twice.
The bank is a little red brick building on the corner of Main and Second. Two stories. White columns out front that George always said were too fancy for a town of four thousand people. A brass plaque by the door that says FARMERS & MERCHANTS BANK — EST. 1968.
Inside, it smells like old carpet and new money and the peppermints they keep in a glass bowl on the counter.
Ezoic
It’s cool in there. That was the first thing I noticed. The air conditioning was blasting. My sweat went cold on my neck.
Shelly usually works the window.
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