For Seven Years I Sent Forty Thousand Dollars Every January, Until Emma Finally Spoke

He laid it flat between us.

“Listen here, Carl,” I said.

“What’s that?”

“I found the original 2017 probate filing this morning,” Carl said.

“I drafted these papers myself seven years ago, after Laura’s funeral.”

I rubbed my thumb against my wedding ring while he turned the legal pages.

“What did Mark report under oath?” I asked.

“He swore under penalty of perjury that he had three thousand dollars in a checking account and no real property,” Carl said.