Chapter 41The outdoor stairs of her father’s factory always grabbed at Michiko’s shoes because of the cross-tread pattern of the metal steps. The welded pipe handrails had surface rust, but the crossbeams and support poles were sturdy and solid. The office and living space had been built by workers who didn’t need to skimp or hurry.
In the musty office, only a sliver of light came through the window from the workshop floor. Michiko went to the small sink and washed her hands. She opened the hanging key case and took out a large key ring for her father’s desk. The top drawer clanked into her hands as she pulled it all the way out and set it on the floor.
She took five well-wrapped packets of cash from her black leather duffel bag and spun a round of duct tape over them. Squinting into the
