Rachel slid a black fountain pen across the dark green desk blotter toward my hand.

“Sign line twenty-four on the second page,” Rachel said.

I picked up the pen and signed my legal name on the gray line at the bottom of the page.

Rachel took the paper back, stamped the top margin with a heavy red ink seal, and slipped it into a manila mailing envelope.

“Does Mark know you have the loan forgery documents?” Rachel asked, closing the envelope flap.

“He thinks I’m sitting in my mother’s spare bedroom with two boxes of plastic bowls,” I said.