I walked into the room and stood by the edge of the desk with my arms folded across my chest.

“Mark,” I said.

“Did you open any new secondary cards on my old primary credit account?”

Mark didn’t look up right away.

He drew a long red line across a budget sheet before setting his pen in the groove of his wooden desk tray.

He swiveled his chair toward me and rubbed the back of his neck with his right hand.

“What credit account are you talking about, Nora?” he asked.