cell phone screen to the release button on the truck glovebox. It dropped open with a dull plastic click, spilling a stack of operator manuals and folded oil receipts onto the bench seat.
Behind the manuals lay a blue paper folder bound with a heavy brass fastener. I pulled it out into the fading afternoon light.
The cover page bore the letterhead of an attorney office in Waterloo named Vance and Associates. Stapled beneath it was a three-page legal release agreement printed on heavy court paper and signed in dark blue ink.
I recognized the signature on the bottom line instantly. It belonged to Kaylee’s biological father, written in the same jagged slant I had seen on child support papers ten years ago.
An official bank cashier’s check receipt was paper-clipped to the final page. It matched the exact check stub I had found under the brass tractor paperweight in
