Marcus turned the pages with a single finger.

“He kept this like a flight log.”

Folded into the back was the insurance binder, renewed in June.

Coverage on the dwelling, two million six hundred thousand dollars.

My mother had told me the house was mostly debt and the roof was failing.

“He put that roof on nine years ago,” I said.

“He wrote down the receipt.”

Marcus lined the ledger up on the desk.