“Then let her,” I said.

Mark turned, went down the short hall, and let the back screen door click closed behind him.

I sat down at the head of the dining table and drew the dusty blue envelope out of my shirt.

The paper inside was dry and yellowed at the edges, but the notary’s raised seal still stood out sharp and clear against the light.

For ten years Vanessa had believed she was the one who got away with everything.