“Does that mean the land is mine?”
Donna looked cautious.
“You need a lawyer.”
Of course.
Everything required a lawyer.
I laughed bitterly.
“With what money?”
She looked at me.
Then at my clothes.
Maybe she understood.
She gave me the address of a legal aid office.
It was fourteen miles away.
No bus until afternoon.
I waited.
Patch waited outside the records building.
I bought him part of a sandwich.
Then we took the bus.
Legal aid assigned me to a young attorney named Maya Chen.
I expected judgment.
She gave me none.
I told her about prison.
The cave.
The box.
My grandfather.
The house.
Everything.
She listened.
Then examined the documents.
“This is unusual.”
“That seems to be my life.”
She smiled slightly.
Then became serious.
“Do not show these original papers to anyone else.”
“Why?”
“If the land is yours, you need to secure it before family learns.”
