“She did.

The deed book at Arthur’s office has it three times.”

Claire laughed, one short one, and smoothed the page flat on the oilcloth beside the red ledger.

Then she went quiet.

“What happens to the ledger after Monday?”

“It goes to the state with a tag on it and a copy for Arthur.

It does not come back to this kitchen.”

She took Arthur’s pen, which she had borrowed that afternoon without asking, and tested it on the corner of the county envelope.