“Somewhere I can put my hand on it.”

He shut the folder and got up.

“Don’t leave the county while I get this sorted out.”

I told him I’d be in Bridgeport, and he wrote that down too.

When I got home, the notice was folded once and tucked against my apartment door.

It was addressed to Occupant, and it said the account was two hundred and eleven dollars past due.

I had paid the electric bill on the second of the month.