“He came to the Northline office once. Gray jacket. Expensive watch. He didn’t say much, but Claire listened when he talked.”

My mind started moving through names.

Claire’s father lived in Arizona and hadn’t visited in two years. My boss was in Chicago. Our neighbors were ordinary people with ordinary problems—lawn care, school pickup, property lines, barking dogs.

An older man in a gray jacket meant nothing.

And somehow, because it meant nothing, it scared me more.

Claire took one step toward me.

“Mason, give me the letter.”

“No.”