It was Rob’s, neat and sharp, signed the very same day he drove her out of my driveway.

I opened the sheet all the way and read the legal description of the parcel twice.

She had signed away her share to get her name off the mortgage debt before the bank could go after her personal accounts.

She had forgotten every bit of it the moment she climbed into Rob’s shiny red car.

I folded the paper back along its old creases and slid it right back into the dusty blue envelope.

The workshop door rattled once in the midnight wind, but the paper in my fingers didn’t move at all.