Yellow maple leaves drifted down from the tree in the front yard and settled across the damp lawn of 412 Maple Street.

At twenty past seven my phone rang in my coat pocket.

“The municipal clerk filed the consent judgment at eight last night,” Captain Morales said when I picked up.

“Did my mother sign the civil restitution agreement without filing any counter-petition?” I asked.

“She signed it in front of Dalton at his office,” Morales said.

“Her signature legally commits her to pay back the forty-five thousand dollars taken out of your deployment account through monthly payroll garnishment.”

I sipped my hot coffee and watched a leaf come to rest on the bottom porch step.