Nineteen Thousand Dollars, a Forged Signature, and a Flight to the Dominican Republic

“He wanted me broke when I landed,” I said.

“He wanted you legally stripped of your home and your child,” Rebecca said.

She pulled up to the curb outside forty-two fourteen Maple Street at 1135 hours.

Evelyn was standing on her front porch in a beige cardigan, holding a wooden broom against her hip.

She froze when she saw my uniform as I opened the passenger door.

“Hannah,” Evelyn called, leaning the broom against the wall of the house.

She came down her three wooden porch steps to the concrete walkway.