I placed in Henry’s study a letter, apparently from my investment adviser, referencing a certificate of deposit worth six hundred thousand dollars that did not exist.

Two nights later, Michael found it, and later that same night, from his own home, he searched online for the account.

The account was not real.

But the search was.

Eleven forty-eight in the evening, from Michael’s home internet address, using a scanned copy of my driver’s license that I kept locked in my desk.

Every trap I set, my son walked into, and documented himself doing it, because he simply could not imagine that the harmless old woman was the one setting the traps.

I did not enjoy setting those traps.