I do not even remember standing.
One second I was crying on the floor.
The next, I was running through town in the rain clutching that key so tightly it dug into my palm.
The diner sat quiet between breakfast and lunch rush.
Joe stood behind the counter refilling sugar dispensers.
I burst through the door breathless.
He looked up slowly.
I held out the key.
“Is it true?”
Joe stared at me for a long second.
Then nodded once.
“Yeah.”
He reached beneath the counter and placed a thick folder in front of me.
Legal documents.
Ownership percentages.
Bank transfers.
