Seven Yellow Folders Exposed What My Parents Had Done to Ethan

Ask him what came over his fax machine at eight o’clock.”

He spun on his heel, tapped his pen against his palm, and headed for the concrete stairwell that led down to Main Street.

I left my sedan in the garage and walked two blocks down Main Street to the pay phone on the corner outside the diner.

A cold autumn wind shook the aluminum frame of the booth and blew dead oak leaves across my ankles.

I fed three quarters into the slot and punched in the direct desk number for the reserve unit office.