Page 40 of Reasons We Break

He gives no further direction, so she opens the notebook. She’s greeted with the debit and credit columns she’s seen a million times. It’s so normal it takes her by surprise, although it shouldn’t. Any functional business needs to keep their finances straight. Even illegal ones.

But the more she examines it, the more she realizes it isn’t so normal at all. For one, it’s messy. The handwriting is nearly illegible at points, ignoring the ruled lines and going off in diagonal tangents, running into other calculations, sometimes smudged beyond recognition. Her math teachers would pop a vessel if they saw the egregious lack of BEDMAS adherence. Not only that, but the numbers aren’t all written out fully, leaving plenty of room for error. It’s only through context that Simran can understand them. And those numbers...are a lot. Far more zeroes than she’s ever dealt with.

She flips a page and is greeted with a list of dates, next to numbers of pounds, next to four-digit codes. Some of the four-digit codes are repeated. Are they codes for certain clients, maybe? Buying whatever product here is measured in pounds? There’s no legend to follow. How can she use this structure without understanding what it means? She glances up at Nick. He stares back. All of them do.

Rory says, “She doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Looks that way, doesn’t it?” Nick’s voice is taunting.

Theyknewit wouldn’t be straightforward. Of course it isn’t; they don’t want just anyone to be able to read it. “You’re not going to at least tell me what these code words mean?”

“I don’t have time to teach you how to do this job.” Nick examines his fingernails. “I thought you said you were practically an accountant? If not, get the fuck out and stop wasting my time.”

His voice is harsh. She swallows.

But. Nick wouldn’t have gone to all this effort only to humiliate her. He may be mocking her, but he’s also curious.

She holds her hand out. “Give me a pen.”

Nick tilts his head, and a ballpoint is shoved in her hand. Instead of recording the new transactions as she was asked, she continues flipping through old pages, searching for patterns. From the looks of it, several people have worked on this ledger—with variable skill levels. Every time she thinks she has a grasp on their system, something changes and she has to go back again.

They talk about her while she’s reading.

“Bitch doesn’t know what she’s doing.”

“Where’d you even find her?”

“Nick, you on something? Why bring her in?” Something soft glances across her temple. She flinches, only to find a cigarette butt dropping onto her arm. She can’t tell who threw it; they’re all staring at her balefully. She looks down at the page and closes her eyes briefly.

These intimidation tactics are nothing.Nothing, she tells herself. In her last chemistry lab exam, she had to identify a compound in fifty minutes using only the equipment in front of her. The TAs stared them down, making Simran’s hands shake as she attempted to use the mass spectrometer. How is this any different? Same game. Different substances.

She reopens her eyes to brush the cigarette off her cardigan. “Who’s been keeping these books recently? They’re a mess.”

Rory makes a disbelieving sound and wheels on Nick again. “You should’ve asked me before you hired an outsider. How’re we supposed to trust her? What if she’s working with cops?”

“She’s not. She hasn’t had any contact since we met her.”

A chill races down Simran’s back. They’ve been...watching her?

“I was doing the books just fine,” Rory snaps, and Simran’s eyebrows rise.Hewas the accountant’s replacement?

“Your notes are shit.” Nick sniffs. “The schoolgirl isn’t wrong about that.”

“Fuck you,” Rory retorts. “You’re not evenfromhere. You can’t just come here and decide whatwedo inKelowna.”

Something in the air changes. A few of the men stir. Rory, apparently, took it too far with that comment.

Nick tilts his head, like a wolf hearing a rustle in the bushes. His voice becomes silky. “In case you’ve forgotten, Manny asked me personally to take over, because you’ve been doing a shit job. So you can either put up or shut up.” He gives a nasty smile. “Or die.”

The silence deepens. Simran doesn’t doubt the sincerity of his threat. But somehow, she thought there’d be more loyalty within the Lions themselves. Or at least enough to avoid questioning each other in front of an outsider.

Zohra notices her staring. “What’reyoulooking at? Get to work.”

The hostility in her voice is so different from that day she walked Simran to her car. Simran refocuses on the series of subtractions she was reading.

Several columns of this, with the wordkilorepeated a few times. They must be talking about one of their...products. But what are they subtracting? She glances at the paper-wrapped bricks. Those paper layers surely weigh something significant. They must take that into account when they sell. She flips a several pages back. There’s a calculation here for 21.11 - 5.

She frowns and flips forward again. A few weeks ago, a new recorder had taken over. And their handwriting isn’t the only thing that’s changed.