Three Decades of Pretending Come to an End in a Military Holding Cell
The tiny letters in the corner identified it as a Small Business Administration federal guarantee form.
Glenn had tried to trick me into signing the final authorization in person.
When I wouldn’t put pen to paper, he simply took it to the retired clerk and forged it anyway with the expired power of attorney.
I lifted the document and held it up to the light.
The ink was long dry, but the trap was still perfectly set.
He had tied my name to a massive federal default that would go off the moment the first payment was missed in October.
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