The clerk stapled the separation papers in the top left corner, and then again in the middle of the page.

Arthur spotted the second staple before I did.

“That isn’t where that goes,” he said.

The clerk glanced up, worn out.

“The judge signed it.

That’s where it goes.”

Arthur caught my wrist, not roughly, just firmly enough to stop me from walking off.

His thumb pressed the face of my watch against the bone.

“Change the PIN on every single card, right now.”

I looked at the watch.

10:17.

“Dad.

The judge just finalized the paperwork.”

“The judge finalized paper.

He didn’t finalize your bank cards.”

He had a manila envelope tucked under his arm.

I had noticed it at breakfast and figured it was crossword puzzles.

He moved it forward.