“Your home has a thirty-day default notice on its automatic mortgage payments right now,” I said, speaking for the first time that hour.

“The four-hundred-twelve-dollar electric bill was due yesterday, and the account has nothing in it.”

Daniel looked up from the photo, his eyes fixing on my bare head.

“You pulled the corporate payroll deposit.”

“I unlinked every card, every account, and every secondary authorization,” I said, turning the silver ring on my right thumb once.

“You’ve got twelve minutes left to decide how this morning ends.”

Daniel’s lawyer picked up the photo of the silver clippers, looked at the police case number stamped in blue ink on the back, and set it down carefully.