I heard him say, “Mother, there’s a summons on the porch.” Then a pause.

“No, not a letter.

A summons.”

His voice broke on the last word.

He looked at my car again.

He held the envelope out at his side.

I shifted the car into drive.

The last thing I saw was Brandon standing on his front lawn clutching the white envelope, his mouth hanging open, while the process server walked back to his car.