“She has to answer for what she did in open court tomorrow morning,” Michael said.

Michael stacked the bank receipts in perfect date order.

Three cardboard moving boxes sat on the cracked concrete of Lena’s front porch.

Michael parked his gray sedan at the curb a little before three.

The narrow asphalt driveway was empty.

Lena stood in the shadows behind the locked screen door.

She pushed the mesh door open and came out onto the porch as Michael walked up across the dead grass.

Michael picked up the first box.