Michael Carter Pushed Me Toward a Fifty Million Dollar Funeral
I put it in my bag.
Robert did not ask what was inside.
Ashley sat at the other end of the courthouse corridor bench.
She held a document envelope she had smoothed so many times one edge had begun to curl.
She said it was the original amendment and the supporting pages.
Her attorney had told her to bring everything she still had: the original copy, the checklist, and the notes she made when they prepared the file.
I waited.