Brenda took her brass key out of the register drawer and got up off her black vinyl stool.

“I’ll need to take you back to Mr.

Henderson’s office,” she said.

The office had dark blue wool carpet and smelled of stale tobacco and paper dust.

Mr.

Henderson sat behind a gray metal desk with two framed photos of wooden sailboat races on it.

He opened a thick manila folder and took out a single sheet of heavy bond paper with a blue ink signature on it.

“Evelyn Miller presented this power of attorney at our counter on July twelfth,” Mr.