I brought her juice and sat on the floor next to the couch while she drank it, both hands wrapped around the cup, her mismatched socks pulled up to her knees.

“Is Mommy coming home?” Micah asked, his crayon still in his hand.

“Not today, pal,” I said.

He nodded and went back to drawing wheels.

Then I snapped a picture of the bank alert with my phone, because the second number was still in the header, and the company name under it had nothing to do with my wife.

Chloe Sterling took the phone from my hand before I’d even gotten my coat off.

“Vance Commercial Holdings,” she said.