I dialed the customer service number, but the recorded message informed me that the wait time to speak with a representative was over twenty minutes due to high call volume.
“I will run down to the branch during my lunch break,” I said, setting the phone down.
“Go ahead,” Martha said. “I can handle the late registration requests if anyone comes in.”
The community bank branch on Michigan Street was quiet when I walked in at four past fifteen in the afternoon, the autumn sun casting long, pale shadows across the heavy glass doors. Sarah, a teller who had worked there since my college days, was counting a stack of twenty-dollar bills behind the counter.
“Hello, Claire,” she said, sliding the cash into a drawer. “Are we depositing another listing deposit for Daniel today?”
“Not today, Sarah,” I said, leaning against the cold marble counter. “I received an alert about our savings account this morning, and I wanted to verify the transaction.”
She tapped her fingers on the keyboard, her screen reflecting a pale green light onto her face.
