the shed, made out for fourteen thousand five hundred dollars and dated three weeks ago.
The check had been drawn directly from our farm savings account and deposited into an escrow fund at the Waterloo law firm.
I carried the blue folder out of the truck cab and across the gravel yard to the seed shed, where the overhead bulb burned over Travis’s desk.
The small oil heater in the corner hummed as I spread the stapled pages across the green desk blotter.
The agreement stated in clear legal language that for the sum of fourteen thousand five hundred dollars, all parental rights, legal claims, and future visitations were surrendered permanently.
Paragraph four had a thick line drawn beneath the second sentence in red grease pencil.
It stated that Travis was strictly forbidden from publicly representing himself as Kaylee’s legal father or exercising public parental roles until her eighteenth birthday
