I took the cold metal in my fingers and looked down at the white page.

The document had a blue seal stamped in the top left corner.

It looked exactly like the forms we signed every April.

But this one had a different routing number printed near the bottom margin.

I recognized the first four digits from the printed logs Daniel had shown me yesterday.

The top half was filled with standard boilerplate language about shared marital assets.

The printed text was small, single-spaced in a dense, intimidating block.