Seven Yellow Folders Exposed What My Parents Had Done to Ethan

“Don’t let civilian lawyers shove you around.”

At two o’clock I found Ethan in the corner booth of the Elm Avenue Diner, staring down into a mug of hot chocolate.

His silver ring flashed under the overhead lights as he turned it around his finger, again and again, until the skin had gone red.

I sat down across from him and set a small velvet pouch on the Formica table between us.

Ethan looked up, his thumb going still on the silver band.