Brandon Poured Cold Beer Over Sarah Before He Learned About Her Athletic Past
“You have a copy of her license in that file.”
“I know it, honey.
It’s frozen anyway.”
“Who filed it?”
She turned the form around so the signature line faced me.
Brandon’s name, in his own hand, the pen pressed hard enough to dent the paper.
“And he attached a letter,” she said, more quietly.
“On letterhead.