“I have notarized bank records showing nine hundred forty dollars sent every single month straight into Mom’s personal mortgage account.”

Aunt Martha pulled her silk scarf tighter against the cold.

“Put those papers away, Clara,” she said.

“She told you and the rest of the family that I quit helping her two years ago,” I said.

“Look at the dates on page two.

The transfers went through every month on the twenty-sixth.”

“Your mother is sixty-one years old and sitting alone in a cold house on Elm Street,” Aunt Martha said, opening her driver’s door to put a heavy metal barrier between us.

“We don’t read business papers against our own family.