“My client holds personal records that will be produced in due course,” Henderson said.

Daniel packed our Navy bank printouts back into his bag without another word.

Clara Potts stood by the stainless steel water cooler near the south exit of the building, holding a small white carbon slip.

She waited until Henderson and my parents turned the corner toward the main marble stairwell before stepping out into the lobby.

“I kept this behind my counter ledger for you, Evelyn,” Clara said in her dry, polite tone.

She handed me a small square of carbon paper stamped with the blue Portsmouth city seal.