She gave me a reference number and advised me to speak with the bank’s fraud and account-security department.

When I returned to my car, I didn’t start the engine immediately.

The Buick’s old dashboard clock showed eleven twenty.

I could hear the squeak of the worn belt whenever the engine idled, but the car was silent now.

For several minutes, I stared toward the bank doors.

The wedding was four days away.

My fiancé was asking questions about selling my house.

His mother wanted the inheritance protections removed.

And someone had submitted financial paperwork I hadn’t approved.

I opened my purse.