And a forged digital signature.”

I opened my laptop, and I went into my email — the archived folders, the spam, all the notifications I had ignored completely during the weeks I lived at my son’s hospital bedside, when a bank alert was the last thing on earth I would have looked at.

And there they were, buried in the flood of the unread: credit inquiry alerts.

Title valuation requests.

Document verification pings.

All of them time-stamped to those three weeks.