PART 3 The courthouse smelled like wet coats, old paper, and coffee that had been burned for too many hours.

trembled, but she did not stop.

“I worked summers in the bakeries, winters in distribution, college breaks in accounting. I know the name of the night supervisor in Joliet because he sent flowers when my father got sick. I know why we never changed the oatmeal supplier even when it got expensive, because my father said children could taste when adults continue reading …