I put the coffee scoop down on the tile counter.

“You used my Social Security number without asking me?”

“You have such a clean credit score,” she said, pouring cream into a ceramic pitcher.

“Your father said it was the most sensible way to keep the deposit low.”

“How long has that account been in my name?” I asked.

“Thirty-six months,” she said smoothly.

“And you’ve never missed a single month, which proves your father was completely right about your discipline.”

She picked up the heavy tray of pastries and carried it into the dining room before I could answer.