Eighteen Years After Ray Abandoned Him on a Dirt Road, Thomas Found His Mother’s Letter

Then I snapped the last steel ring closed.

At eight forty on Thursday, the hallway outside Courtroom 3B smelled of coffee from a cart and damp wool from the coat rack.

Two men from the lumberyard stood by the window going over a receipt.

One of them glanced at me, then away.

I looked at my watch.

Eight forty-six.

Vance came down the hall with his file under one arm and a legal pad in his hand.

“The clerk has your binder.