For Fourteen Years My Son Lived Rent-Free in a House He Believed Was His
I walked over to the brick pillar.
The metal mailbox door was hanging open.
A thick white envelope was jammed into the back corner of the box.
I worked the envelope loose.
The seal had been broken.
The top edge was torn raggedly.
The printed logo in the corner was from Oakridge Commercial Lending.
The return address gave an office downtown.