A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
“I mean there is one in our system.”
She sat opposite me and turned the folder around.
The application was for seventy-five thousand dollars.
It was dated three weeks earlier.
My name appeared at the bottom.
The handwriting resembled mine in the way a drawing resembles a person who hasn’t quite been observed.
The letters stood too straight.
The capital I was elaborate where mine was plain.
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