The crisp black ink on the California DMV verification form resting on my knees held every legal fact in place.

The loan officer at the Sacramento bank branch on Capitol Mall turned her monitor three inches to the left and tapped the glass with her index finger.

“There’s an administrative note on your Seattle checking account from yesterday at eight forty-five in the morning,” she said.

“What kind of note?” I asked.

“A man identifying himself as Arthur Collins called our main line,” she said, reading from her screen.

“He said he was your legal guardian and asked for an emergency freeze on all outgoing wire transfers and withdrawals from your checking and savings accounts.”