“Paper stars don’t melt,” Nathaniel said.

“Keep them tucked away and dry.”

Daisy reached into the lining of her canvas coat and pulled out a folded blue slip of paper, her small fingers shivering a little as she passed it through the crack in the window.

“The man with the silver tie bar put this on our apartment door,” Daisy whispered.

Nathaniel took the paper back to the front of his truck and unfolded the thick blue sheet in the bright beam of his headlight.

At the bottom of the eviction notice, pressed deep into the blue paper in dark purple ink, was an image of an eagle perched on a carpenter’s square, ringed by the words Vance Sub-Contracting Incorporated.