“Dad picked me up Sunday, remember?

He dropped his gloves down there when he was hunting for his sunglasses.”

“He must have dropped this, too,” I said.

I flattened the yellow paper on my thigh while the Buick idled in the line of school buses.

It was the customer copy of a receipt from a hair and beauty salon on Phillips Avenue in Sioux Falls.

The total at the bottom said two hundred dollars, marked as an advance deposit for an April service package.

“What’s that, Mom?” Sadie asked, leaning over to adjust her heater vent.