The room remained quiet, save for the rhythmic patter of rain and the occasional crackle from the fireplace. Malcolm was beginning to think the boy might actually sit still the entire time, but then he heard a shuffle. Milo rose from his corner, his tiny feet padding softly across the Persian rug.
Malcolm remained motionless in his chair, his curiosity piqued. What would the boy do now? Would he notice the envelope stuffed with cash, perched temptingly on the table? Would he succumb to the temptation, as Malcolm expected most people would?
