My Father Tossed a Blue Savings Passbook into the Mud at Cedar Ridge
“You broke federal law.”
“I can write you a check today,” Gregory said.
“You don’t own that house anymore,” I said.
“And I don’t want your property.”
Gregory reached for the blue passbook, but he stopped halfway.
His hand hovered in the air over the faded red stamp.
He didn’t touch it.
Gregory sank slowly into his leather chair as his face went completely pale.