“This legally ends your liability for any future overdrafts on his individual cards.”

I picked up the pen and signed firmly on every marked line.

Laying out the financial wreck of my marriage in front of a bank officer hurt, but the cold clarity of the paperwork left no room for embarrassment.

Mr.

Henderson stamped the forms, opened his drawer, and took out a crisp, sealed white cashier’s check.

“Seven thousand two hundred dollars, made out to you alone,” he said, passing me the envelope.

“The joint account is officially closed.”