“Account five-nine-one is officially open,” Donald said in his formal voice.

“And every earlier joint ledger under account four-eight-two has been closed for good and archived.”

“Thank you for helping me through all this, Donald,” I said, tucking the new passbook carefully into my handbag.

“The bank has a strict duty to follow disclosure laws and look after its depositors, Penelope,” Donald said, giving me a quiet nod as I got up.

At two that afternoon, Clara pulled her sedan into the parking lot of Oakridge Hardware on Commerce Street.