Emma Signed Over Her Kitchen Island to Keep Toby Safe in Massachusetts

to think,” I said.

I left her kitchen before she could ask another question about the bank accounts.

The bank lobby was quiet at two in the afternoon, the high ceiling echoing with the sound of a printer in the back. I stood at the counter, holding my driver’s license against the polished wood.

The teller, a young woman with a brass name tag, tapped her continue reading …