At four fifteen the three of us stood at the teller desk with the certified order, and the branch manager came out with his reading glasses pushed up into his hair.

He read every page twice.

Then he typed with two fingers and turned the screen away from us.

“The accounts are unfrozen,” he said.

“The lien on the parcel behind your garage is canceled as of this afternoon.”

Martha asked him to write the confirmation number on paper.

He wrote it and pushed it across the desk.

“There’s one more item.