He picked up his fork again.

“Which is an entity I manage.”

I reached for the folded account summary lying next to my water glass and flipped it over.

The back of the page was completely blank.

At twenty to seven on Wednesday morning, the overhead garage door still hadn’t gone up to let the morning air in.

I was on my knees on the cold concrete, reaching far under the front passenger seat of Grant’s Buick.

Sophie needed her rubber-soled canvas shoes for gym, and Grant had brought her home late from his office Tuesday night after dinner with a client.