“Bring your driver’s license back to the house right now.”

“I’ll sign the quitclaim deed today,” I said.

“I’m tired of fighting about the mortgage balance.”

The tapping stopped at once.

“Where exactly are you right now?” David asked.

“Meet me at the store on Highway Nine and bring a pen,” I said.

“I told you never to set foot in that store,” David said, his voice dropping even lower.

“It’s trash.