The Hidden Truth in a Faded Blue Shirt That Saved My Family
“You can’t do that,” I said.
“Watch me,” he said.
He turned on his heel and walked back to his SUV.
He climbed inside, started the engine, and accelerated out of the parking lot, leaving a cloud of exhaust behind.
I stood in the cold for a long minute, my hands shaking in my pockets.
I forced myself to walk back up the stairs to my apartment.
The silence inside was comforting, but the threat hung in the air.
I sat at the kitchen table and pulled out the folder of financial documents I had managed to keep.
There were old tax returns, bank statements from our joint account before the divorce, and loose receipts.
I needed to find something concrete before my meeting with the legal aid representative tomorrow.
My mother’s car pulled into the driveway twenty minutes later.
I heard Nolan’s laughter in the hallway before the front door unlocked.
“Mom!” Nolan cried, running into the living room.
He was holding a drawing of the constellation Orion.
“Mrs. Latham helped me trace the stars today,” he said, holding the paper up.