“The loan was against the house,” I said.

Bell lifted the brown envelopes out one by one.

The first held a mortgage note with my name on the signature line, in ink that slanted the way mine does when I’m tired.

There was a coffee ring near the bottom of the page.

The second held a notary page.

The stamp sat faintly in the corner, the way an old stamp fades.

The third held a payoff schedule in Derek’s handwriting.