The deposit slip was dated three weeks before David shipped out overseas.

The total line was stamped in bold black numbers: forty-two thousand dollars.

The account name at the top read David Vance Escrow Account, but the handwritten signature on the line underneath wasn’t David’s.

David always formed his capital letters with sharp, straight military angles.

The signature on this receipt had long, curving loops through the first letters.

It was the same handwriting as the sympathy card Julian had left on our dining table after the memorial service.

I flipped the blue slip over in my hands and checked the bank branch routing number printed along the bottom edge.