My Childhood Sweetheart Asked Me to Sign a Special Folder in Room Four Hundred Seven

Rica, with his name printed in clear black ink.

“This was under your mattress, Ben,” I said.

He did not look at the ticket, his eyes still locked on my face.

Next, I pulled out the three unpaid tax notices with the red ink, totaling twenty-two thousand dollars.

Then, the collection letter from the regional syndicate for ninety-five thousand dollars, addressed continue reading …