Claire was at the kitchen window when I signed for both.

She came out with her coat buttoned wrong, the collar folded under her chin.

“From Daniel,” the courier said.

“Paid in full.”

I set the box on the porch rail and cut the ribbon with my pocketknife.

Inside was a letter on heavy paper and a cashier’s check in a velvet sleeve.

Twenty thousand dollars, made out to Claire Voss.

Claire took the letter and didn’t open it.