The garage parcel was drawn in blue ink, separate from the house, with a thin line where the driveway met the alley.

“Did Frank ever mortgage this?” I asked.

Martha’s fingers went to her apron, smoothing, smoothing.

“Not that I know of.”

“Did Brandon ask you to sign anything for the garage?”

She stood up too fast and put her hand on the closet door.

“He said it was for the lawn service.”

I folded the survey page and put it in my bag beside the medal.