My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
“It depends on what was submitted.”
I looked at the screen.
“Can you tell me if the application was approved?”
“No.”
“Was it declined?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
At least one thing was clear.
The loan hadn’t gone through.
But the fact that someone had tried was enough.
I thanked her and ended the call.
Then I called Rachel again.
“I need that envelope.”
“You want me to bring it?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“If you can.”
“I’ll come.”
Twenty minutes later, there was a knock at my hotel room.
I opened the door.
Rachel stood there holding a small paper bag.
She looked exhausted.
“I brought everything.”
I let her inside.
She placed the envelopes on the table.
There were four.
Three addressed to Nathan.
One addressed to me.
I picked up mine.
The return address was the same financial company the bank had mentioned.
