I took a screenshot of each and every one.

Then I went searching for the paper that had been on the door.

It was folded up inside Brandi’s purse on the kitchen counter: a notice of default from our mortgage lender.

We were four months behind.

Four months.

I had sent the mortgage payment every single month without fail.

Beneath it sat a pile of casino markers from Coushatta.

Thirty-one thousand dollars’ worth.