Sixteen hundred dollars a month in rent, pulled automatically from my private account on the first of every month, which left seven thousand four hundred dollars untouched in my emergency savings.

I put down the green file folder Frank had given me at his Lake Street office the day before.

Next to it lay the carbon stub of the twelve-thousand-four-hundred-dollar cashier’s check from our settled marital equity division, sealed and cleared into my personal account.

The mail slot beside the front door clacked with a sharp metal snap, dropping three white envelopes onto the green bamboo rug.

I picked them up and carried them over to the small round oak table I had set for one.