“He paid sixty-five dollars for the filing fee at the clerk’s counter right in front of me.”

“He handed you a souvenir certificate from the chapel desk,” Vance said.

“He couldn’t legally marry you five years ago, because he never filed for divorce from Brenda.”

“I put forty-two thousand dollars of household bills on my own credit cards,” I said.

“I gave him my savings from my school district job.”

“You were never married to him, Clara, you were just a clean Social Security number.”

The words sat on the oak desk like a block of concrete.