tape for a long time.
“You’re sure?”
“I’m sure.”
He opened it with a letter opener. Carefully. He slid out the deed. Fourteen pages. And Nile’s folded note, still folded, still in the same creases.
He flipped through the deed. He turned to the last page.
Then he looked up at me with his wild white eyebrows.
“Well,” he said. “Whoever opened this didn’t read it all the way through.”
“What do you mean?”
He turned the page toward me.
I saw it. And I started to laugh. I couldn’t
