Brandon’s black sedan sat in the middle of the gravel driveway.

Through the big kitchen window, I could see Melissa moving back and forth, laying white plates out on the marble counter.

They were getting ready for dinner, with no idea that Loan Officer Davis was filing the rejection papers at his bank desk forty miles away.

Brandon still thought the six-figure commercial loan was sailing through underwriting without a problem.

My coat pocket buzzed against my side in three quick bursts.