Forty-One Thousand Dollars and a Yellow Paper Envelope
I turned the page.
The bank statements showed the balance sitting there, untouched, year after year.
My father had signed every page.
His handwriting leaned left at the bottom.
One page had a paper clip rusted to the corner.
“He didn’t leave you to take the fall,” Arthur said.
“He tried to buy you a future.”
I rubbed my wrist until the skin turned warm.