Every Night at Six Thirty, Bob Drove Away, Until His Other Wife Said My Name
I drew the blue folder out onto the blotter and lifted the cover.
Beneath a twelve-hundred-dollar property tax bill from last spring lay a four-page document headed Quitclaim Deed Draft.
It listed our Oakridge bungalow on Elm Street, right down to its county parcel number and legal description.
My name didn’t appear anywhere on the first two pages.
The grantor line said Robert Vance, and right beneath it, on the co-signer signature line, was the name Ruth Vance.
I touched the silver pendant at my throat as I flipped to the notary block at the back.