Seven Yellow Folders Exposed What My Parents Had Done to Ethan
“Dad carried the blue legal backs out of the study on Tuesday,” Ethan said, keeping his back to the kitchen window.
“Two men in dark suits sat in the living room until midnight.”
“Did you get a look at what they were signing?” I asked.
“No,” Ethan said.
“But last Thursday, Dad brought a white card into my room after supper.”
“What sort of card?”
“A signature card from the bank,” Ethan whispered, his voice soft and unsure.
“The top of it was totally blank.”
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