His Lifelong Pleas Got Nothing novel · Chapter 9 of 32

Chapter 9: Locker Fourteen

Sam drove me to the station himself at the end of his shift.

It was almost ten at night, and the rain had stopped.

I held the small brass key in my fist the whole way, and the teeth had cut a pale line across my palm.

"You don't have to come in with me," I said.

"I have to see it." He kept his eyes on the road. "If they falsified your records, they falsified a lot of other things, and I'd like to be able to say I saw the proof."

"That's the only reason?"

He didn't answer for a block.

"I'm your doctor, Tillie. I'm your doctor until that baby is out and breathing. After that we can talk about anything else."

He said it plainly, as a rule.

I heard it and put it away, and I did not look at his hands on the wheel.

The lockers were in a back corridor behind the ticket hall, past a closed newsstand.

Number fourteen was at knee height.

The key turned.

Inside was a gray cardboard file box with a rubber band around it, and nothing else.

Sam carried it to a bench under a flickering light.

I took off the rubber band.

There were four dividers inside, each with a date in marker on the tab.

Under the tabs, four sticky notes, in an old man's careful print.

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