David had walked me through every step twice so I would know what was happening every minute of the morning.

He had promised to be standing on the front porch with an investigator at nine o’clock sharp.

I traced my thumb over the red ink where I had listed the full financial tally once more.

Eighty-five thousand dollars from the sale of my house on Elm Street.

Eight thousand four hundred dollars in monthly cash payments for rent and utilities over seven straight months.

Forty-two dollars for the inhaler I had paid for out of pocket yesterday afternoon, after my secondary health insurance was canceled without my knowledge.