‘Not the color.

The way you look at a column of numbers and wait for it to tell you what somebody has tried to hide.’

At home that night, I opened Walter’s notebook not to hunt for a dramatic clue but to understand the pattern of his work.

The handwriting became a person again.

He underlined dates, drew tidy arrows, and wrote ‘verify’ beside any claim he could not independently support.

I copied that word onto a sticky note above my own desk.