For Seven Years I Sent Forty Thousand Dollars Every January, Until Emma Finally Spoke
I sat down in the wooden visitor’s chair.
It creaked loudly under my weight.
I put my hands on my knees to keep them steady.
“That missing vehicle inspection tag we talked about last week,” Howard said.
“It was never missing.
Mark had the sedan crushed before the state trooper could impound it.”
I rubbed my thumb against my wedding ring.
“Listen here,” I said.