George Brought a Sealed Legal Folder to His Son’s Wedding in an Atlanta Hotel
I dropped the bank ledgers onto my desk.
I picked up my phone to call Brenda.
The hallway carpet outside Brandon’s apartment had a stain shaped like a pear.
I knocked twice with the side of my fist.
Samantha opened the door in a pale green dress, her phone in one hand.
She didn’t step back.
“I came to see my son,” I said.
“Brandon is resting.