Seven Months of Rent Receipts Proved What My Son Had Taken From Me
At two o’clock, the building manager, a quiet retired carpenter named Mr.
Henderson, set the lease papers on the table.
“Two years, paid up front from the cashier’s check,” Mr.
Henderson said, laying his thumb beside the blue signature line.
I took my ballpoint pen and wrote my name across the bottom.
Every dollar of the eighty-five thousand Mark had taken, along with the eight thousand four hundred dollars in forced cash rent, sat safely in my new credit union account.
“You’re set through the winter after next, Loretta,” Mr.
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