The day he was fired, Manhattan left him no door open

The man who answered was Matt Reynolds, a college dropout selling by phone for a broker in Brooklyn. Loud voice, hard edges, debts just as ugly as Darren’s. “Aren’t you the bank guy they just tossed?” Matt asked. “I found something that’s about to break.” “You sound insane.” “Maybe.” Darren looked back at the numbers scrolling across the screen. “But if I’m right, this can pull both of us off the floor.” Ten seconds passed. Then Matt said, “Send it. I want to know how you plan to put Wall Street on its back.” Darren shut the laptop. Manhattan outside the window looked like a steel canyon in the rain. There was no way back.