The paper was old and yellowed, its corners completely crushed from being wedged into a tight space.

“I found this,” Lily said.

“Where did you get that envelope?

Why do you have it?”

“I pried up a loose floorboard in her bedroom closet,” Lily said.

“I used a yellow flathead screwdriver from the workbench in the garage.”

I looked up and down the empty street.

The neighborhood was perfectly quiet.