Clara found a forged receipt for forty thousand dollars

them onto the grass behind my garage just as the church bells in town chimed noon.

Gary set down a tray of plastic pots, his boots sinking into the damp soil of my flowerbed. He wiped his face with the back of his sleeve, leaving a streak of dark peat across his forehead.

“I am so sorry, Aunt Clara,” he said, his voice cracking as he continue reading …