Iris Held On to Her Paid-Off Title When Her Father Threatened to Call the Police

Mr.

Miller reached out and gathered all three sleeves into his hands.

My father rose halfway out of his chair, his face turning dark red above his starched collar.

“Where did you get those state registration forms?” he demanded, his voice cracking a little on the last word.

“I walked into the Sacramento registry office and filed them myself,” I said.

“You had no right to change the vehicle registration without my written agreement,” my father said, leaning over the table.