The Architect of My Own Survival
Outside the window the snow had stopped, and the light on the mountains was the color of an old bruise going green at the edges — the color, I would learn, of a thing beginning, very slowly, to heal.
Chapter 17 — The Preservation Order
The clock on the lien was the first thing we killed.
Rosalind knew a lawyer who knew the state’s financial-crimes division, and by the end of that week the pieces were moving in the one direction Desmond had never planned for: the lawful one.
A forged deed is not a strong instrument.
It only works if no one who knows the real signature ever looks at it — and I had looked, and now so had a forensic document examiner, whose report stated in careful professional language what I had known in my gut: the signature on the lien was not my father’s hand.