He believed I was sitting in this dark house with no options and nowhere left to turn.

He didn’t know about the heavy navy wool uniform hanging clean inside the Navy chest upstairs in my bedroom.

He didn’t know about the gold brass buttons polished bright or the ribbon rack pinned straight across the pocket.

He didn’t know that three hundred dollars in filing fees meant nothing when the original trust deed sat locked in the city vault.

I got up from the step, walked down the wooden stairs, and crossed the frosty grass toward the barn.