given me in his heart.
But the notebooks were only the first layer.
Underneath them were hundreds of small white envelopes, each marked with a Sunday’s date.
Part 8: Every Dollar I Refused
The envelopes were tied together with faded string.
I opened the first one.
Inside was a grocery receipt and several folded bills.
The amount matched the total on the receipt.
I opened another.
The same thing.
Receipt. Money. Date.
Week after week.
Year after year.
Every time I had refused Ezra’s money, he had placed it in