Mark set his mug down on the tile hard enough to splash coffee across the glaze.

“I’m meeting a real estate appraiser at noon,” Mark said.

“I want the front door lock changed by Friday.”

“The mortgage payments come out of our joint account,” I said softly.

Mark stepped closer to me, his voice dropping to a tight, low whisper.

“The primary loan guarantee is in my name, Claire,” Mark said.

“You’re just living in my house.”

“I put sixty-five thousand dollars down,” I said.