Clara put down two mugs of black coffee and took a red pencil out of her cardigan pocket.

“The county tax-sale auction list gets posted at noon today,” Clara said.

“If your title’s still caught up in disputed claims when the commissioner calls the roll, the whole property goes up on the public block.”

I opened the heavy black ledger I’d carried down from the bedroom under my arm.

Next to it I spread out three years of canceled checks, two land title search logs, and four transaction slips Donald had passed me across the counter.

“He used the eight hundred dollars from my inheritance to make the mortgage payments on Willow Lane,” I said.