“Did you sign that check, Dad?” I asked.

“Eleanor handled the transfer,” he said.

“That wasn’t my question,” I said.

He didn’t answer.

“Give Derek my regards at his dinner,” I said, and hung the phone back on its wall bracket.

The house was completely silent.

I stood alone in my quiet kitchen holding the mug of cold coffee.

By ten o’clock the next morning, the registrar’s office on the second floor of Jefferson Hall smelled of floor wax and stale coffee.