“The bank required both account holders to sign off on a transfer that size to an outside account.”

I picked up the page.

It was dated the Thursday after Hannah’s first visit to the clinic.

“That’s my name printed at the bottom,” I said.

“But that isn’t my handwriting.”

Brenda stopped fiddling with her lanyards.

The space heater clicked off, and the room went suddenly quiet.

“Are you telling me this is an unauthorized signature on a bank transfer, Mrs.