Samantha clicked her silver ballpoint twice and slid the receipt across the counter.

“We’re going to need a certified copy before four.”

The clerk was already reaching for the certification stamp.

I stood in the hallway with the receipt in my hand and the sealed blue envelope in my bag.

The courthouse hallway smelled of floor wax and old paper.

My back ached from standing.

The clerk came back with the certified copy and set it on the counter.

Samantha picked it up and clicked her pen one more time.