Yellow Ceramic Mug and Red Silk Scarf in a Red Buick

the driveway where his car was idling.

“Two days,” he said, his voice flat.

“But if you do not sign by Thursday morning, we will have to let the court decide.”

He left the blue folder on the wicker table and walked down the steps without looking back.

I picked up the folder, the cardboard cold against my palms.

By three o’clock, Raymond had slipped through continue reading …