She pressed a heavy steel hand stamp into a purple ink pad and stamped the bottom right corner of the page with the official California state seal.

“Keep this paper in your car,” she said, sliding it across the counter.

“If anyone threatens you with the Oregon police, show them the seal.”

I took the stamped verification form and walked out into the cool winter sunshine in the plaza outside the DMV.

I sat on a wooden bench near a stone planter and unzipped my leather bag to put the document away.

My phone vibrated twice against the bench before Chelsea’s contact photo appeared on the screen.