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The Devil and Lester Filbin
“95 dollars?” Dr. Silas Martz hooted.
I stared at him and said nothing.
“You’re serious,” he said. “That’s it? That’s all the money you have? Nothing in savings? You have to have savings. At least two grand for an emergency. Something.”
“Seriously? Or are you just being melodramatic?”
I shook my head and said, “95 dollars.”