The deed, the settlement statement, the acceptance page, the notary block.

There was a missed call from Lauren at eleven fifty-two, no message.

I set the phone face down on my knee, then picked it up and typed Whitaker, Linden Court, closing documents into the subject line.

“Send it,” Rachel said.

My thumb was on the screen when the phone rang in my hand.

Hale again.

“Ma’am, before you send.

I’m looking at this lease a second time, because I don’t care to be made a fool of.”