The courthouse clerk stamped the revocation at 4:20. The bank froze every account by five. We reached her street a little after six, and the lights were on in a house she had not been living in for four hours.
My parents were inside. My mother had her arms full of silver. My father was on the floor of the back bedroom with a crowbar, working at the boards under the window, because my grandfather had once told him, decades ago, that there was something under there.
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