He held the orange flame to the corner of the heavy paper.

“Look, she forged your handwriting perfectly,” Ethan said.

“She even copied the way you loop your capital letters.

She knew exactly how to make me mad enough to quit asking questions.”

The flame caught the edge of the card.

The thick paper curled back and went brown, then black.

Ethan dropped the burning envelope onto the iron grate.

“Vanessa needed to cut you off,” I said.