He held out his hand, palm up, waiting for me to give him the envelope.

“My name’s printed right here,” I said.

“Give it here, Sarah,” he said.

The smirk had vanished completely.

His eyes stayed fixed on the paper in my hand.

He took one slow step around the island.

“I’m able to open my own mail,” I said.

I folded the thick envelope in half and stuffed it deep into the front pocket of my jeans.