It sat right beside my new driver’s license with the seaside apartment address on it.

I walked back out into the bright late-morning air and felt the solid concrete sidewalk under my shoes.

Nobody in that building knew about the six-bedroom estate on Lakeview Drive.

Nobody knew about Brandon’s commercial loan application or the forged quitclaim deed Arthur had caught at the county registry.

My past belonged to me now, and it didn’t come with a monthly bill anymore.

On my way home I stopped at the corner market and picked up a loaf of fresh sourdough, half a pound of butter and a small wedge of cheddar.