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

One line from March 2006 had been circled twice in pencil.

Care account to R.W., 38,400.

Diane had the sunroom windows open that evening.

The lake breeze stirred the curtains, and her hands stayed folded in her lap while Arthur’s assistant set the notary seal on the table.

“This revokes any implied consent,” Arthur said.

“And this names Thomas as your durable power of attorney.”

Diane looked at me, not at the papers.

“If I sign this, Ray can’t make decisions for me.”