And the ticket itself was signed by Patricia, which predates both the claim and the filing.”

Gary slumped in his chair.

“That signature thing is garbage.

She never told me she signed them.”

“You never asked,” I said.

He looked at me then, and I saw the old Gary for half a second, the one who used to bring me coffee in bed on Sundays before the shop went under and the truck started squealing.

“You filed the papers to leave me with half of nothing, Gary, and legally, that’s exactly what you’re entitled to from this ticket.”

Arthur pushed a pen toward him.