Somebody opened your wife’s record at six twelve the next morning and moved the words around.”

I folded the printout twice and put it in the folder, because holding it wasn’t the same as doing something with it.

“There’s a blue folder,” I said.

“She carried it into that house.

It hasn’t come out.”

“It wasn’t in her belongings, and nobody has produced it.” Miller took her glasses off.

“I can have a preservation order drafted by this afternoon.

Every record in this state that touches her care or her money stays where it is until a judge says otherwise.”