For Seven Years I Sent Forty Thousand Dollars Every January, Until Emma Finally Spoke
“Mark isn’t a struggling single father trying to pay for winter boots, Arthur.
He owns a registered corporation.”
I leaned over the desk and looked at the red circle on the map.
“What kind of business operates under that name?” I asked.
“The state registry shows a marine service address,” Howard said.
“Down on the waterfront in Oakridge.”
I rubbed my thumb against my wedding ring.
The metal felt cold.
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