Arthur Sterling cleaned his glasses with a gray cloth before he slid the folder across the desk.

“Sign the flagged lines, Ms.

Whitaker.

All six.”

I signed my name six times, and each signature came out smaller than the one above it.

Then I set the pen down parallel to the edge of the folder, because my hands wanted something to line up.

“Linden Court is yours at four o’clock today,” Arthur said.

“There is a note from the seller in the back pocket.”

“The wire came through Monday,” I said.

“The settlement, the money from my mother’s house.

It’s all in there.”

“Paid in full.

You are a homeowner, and nobody can take that back.” He capped his pen.

“Does your ex-husband know you bought a house?”

“He knows I was looking.

He doesn’t know where.”

“Then I would keep the address to myself for a while.”

The seller’s note was on lined paper in blue ballpoint.