“He kept the bank stuff in there.”

“Then we’ll unstick it.”

The wood had swollen with the damp.

He worked the blade into the corner, and the drawer gave way with a sound like a cough.

“Your father labeled his labels,” he said, holding up a folder tab that read 2019/2020.

Inside was a black ledger with a red spine, handwritten, one line for each payment.

Property tax twice a year.