Eleven Years of Eating Lunch by a Window in Columbus, Ohio, Ended With a Box I Never Expected
The state wanted a successor trustee named within sixty days.
The second page had a blank line where a name was supposed to go.
I called Liam from the car, and he picked up on the second ring.
“Put your own name on it,” he said.
“You’re the trustee.
Name a second one for afterward.”
“Who should it be.”
“Somebody you’d trust with a quiet room and a set of numbers.” A page turned on his end.