“Mason,” she said. “Put that down.”

It was the first thing she’d said all night that sounded afraid.

So I opened it.

The paper inside was folded into thirds, official and stiff. At the top was the seal of the Franklin County Recorder’s Office, and below it, a notice about a scheduled correction review tied to a property transfer document.

I didn’t understand all the words at first.

Legal language has a way of hiding horror behind boring sentences.

But then I saw my name.