I had never even heard of that account.

The document contained an account number, a transfer instruction, and an email address with my name in it that I did not recognize.

A lesser detail bothered me even more: it was dated on a Thursday when I had been visiting my aunt in Cincinnati, without access to Kyle’s office.

I printed the page.

Then I printed the attached statements.

A week later, after quietly requesting records from the institution named in the papers, I learned the account was real.