Three Weeks After Lucas Was Gone, Charles Claimed the House on Maple Street

It was three thirty.

“You’re giving me a lot of paper at the last minute, counselor.”

“Which is why I brought coffee.” Samantha set a cardboard cup on the counter.

The clerk didn’t smile, but she picked up the motion and read the first page.

Then she stamped it once, twice, and wrote the time in the margin.

“Filed at three thirty-two,” she said.

“You’re thirty minutes ahead of the deadline.”