Twelve Months Later, Ethan Came Back With a Sleeping Newborn and a Broken Suitcase

Oakmont Holdings, typed on a white tab.

I set it on the desk and opened the cover.

Inside were bank statements with no branch address, a stack of deposit slips, and a carbon copy of a cashier’s check.

Pay to the order of Oakmont Holdings.

Eighteen thousand four hundred dollars.

The date matched the ripped receipt I had smoothed out on Ethan’s bed.

The check had cleared in April.

I put my hand flat on the paper.