I carried the page to the sink and pressed it flat again.

The creases had gone soft from the trash, and one corner had a coffee ring on it.

Then I folded it along the old lines, and against them, and along them once more, until it was a square the size of a matchbook and the edges lined up.

I put the square in the pocket of my robe.

The bill was still in my name.

Not one other name anywhere on it.