I had never scanned my tax returns on Dad’s machine.

Three years ago I had brought my paper tax file to Dad’s house to show him my medical receptionist income after my divorce was final, and I left the folder on his desk for two days while we went to dinner at the diner.

Someone had taken my original paper returns out of my folder, laid them flat on Dad’s scanner glass, and printed a clean digital copy.

I turned the page over.