Micah’s mother had woken up. She was propped up on her pillows, watching all of this with tired eyes.
“Who are you?” she asked softly.
“My name is Opal,” I said. “Your son paid for your birthday cake with his grandpa’s coins. And I think there’s something in this jar you need to know about.”
Her name was Lorelei. She had kidney failure. She did dialysis three times a week. She’d lost her job. The eviction notice was real. They had nineteen days.
I showed her the penny under Leonard’s magnifying glass. I told her what I thought it was.
She laughed. She thought I was crazy.
So I drove the penny to a coin dealer in Indianapolis that afternoon. A friend of Leonard’s. Mr. Fenwick, eighty years old, still working.
He looked at it for a long time without saying anything.
Then he took off his glasses.
