Six Pairs of Thick Gray Socks Saved My White House on Elm Street

the rubber grips on the soles catching the polished oak floorboards when I stood up. My legs did not ache, and the tight, twisting pain that used to keep me awake until dawn was gone.

I looked at the black purse sitting on my dresser, where the unsigned medical release and the photocopy of Brenda’s forgery were tucked into the side pocket.