“I’ll ask for a manual override on the queue.”

“Do you think he’ll grant it?” I asked.

“That’s the best I can do for you today, David.”

I stepped out of the admin tent into the late afternoon heat.

Dry dust coated the toes of my boots.

Fifteen thousand dollars was gone.

My son was packing his brass baseball trophies into cardboard boxes.

I had four days to get an emergency court order signed before the rest of our life vanished completely.