for a judge who insisted on paying him twice the quoted price.
Derek and I used to sweep sawdust for pocket money.
The workshop had been closed for years except when Dad took small commissions.
He unlocked the front door with an ordinary key.
Inside, moonlight fell through the dusty windows.
His tools hung where they always had.
Dad walked to the longest workbench.
“Help me move this.”
The bench was heavier than I remembered.
We shifted it away from the wall.
Behind it was a narrow wooden panel.
Dad
