My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge

“This letter is dated four years ago,” Arthur said.

“It was notarized by a man named Thomas Vance.”

“Tom is a highly respected notary,” Gregory said.

Arthur pulled a printed newspaper clipping from his folder and slid it across the table.

“Thomas Vance died of a stroke nine years ago,” Arthur said.

The room went completely silent.

I watched the dust drifting in the bright sunlight coming through the bank windows.

Dustin stopped jingling the keys in his pocket.