A Tin of Old Photographs Revealed Why a Best Friend Kept Helping

from Mrs. Peterson in the bank lobby, which smelled of lemon polish and cold air.

She peered over her silver reading glasses at the computer monitor, her fingers tapping a rhythm against her chin.

“You have six hundred and twelve dollars in the savings account, Alison,” Mrs. Peterson said, keeping her voice low so the tellers across the lobby could not continue reading …