She looked at Shawn — one quick, frightened glance — and that look answered the question before her mouth could.

Then it came out of her in pieces.

Two weeks earlier, Shawn had brought home a stack of legal documents and told her they were just to make sure she’d get the house someday.

She had signed a single signature page without reading the pages stapled behind it.

“I thought it was ordinary estate planning,” she whispered.

“For our future.

He told me it was nothing, and I believed him, because believing him was easier than reading forty pages of legal language at the kitchen table after a long day.