Rosalie’s fingers tightened around mine.

“Page five,” Miller said.

“Maximum civil damages.

You take the house on Oakridge Road, both vehicles, and every personal account Evelyn Whitmore holds.

She’d leave prison with a change of clothes.”

“You’d do that,” Rosalie said.

“If it were your mother?”

“I’d read page six first,” Miller said, and slid it across.