I shut the metal lid, slid the steel box back into its sleeve until it sat flush with the wall, and turned my key until the lock caught.

The teller pulled out her master key, rapped the steel faceplate twice with her knuckles to be sure the latch had caught, and walked me back to the gate.

“Is there anything else you’ll need from your box today, Mrs.

Briggs?” she asked as she locked the outer iron grille behind us.

“No, thank you,” I said, slipping my key back into the inner pocket of my purse.

“Everything is right where it belongs.”