I tucked the receipt into the blue folder with the statements.

I turned the maple leaf over.

My father had penciled a date on it.

August 12, 2019.

The day he sold the land.

I slid it back into the envelope because it was the only thing in that box that didn’t feel like evidence.

She pressed the stamp onto every page and left me by myself again.

I put the papers back in the blue folder and hugged it to my chest.