Next to it, the co-borrower line for my name had been signed in a slanted, rushed script that tried to imitate my handwriting but got the curve of the M wrong.

A yellow sticky note in Daniel’s handwriting was stuck to the corner of the form, saying a second income verification was needed before the fifteenth.

The fifteenth was six days off.

I pulled the document closer to the yellow lamplight, my thumb twisting the silver ring until the metal dug into my knuckle.

The return address listed for the monthly statements wasn’t our house on Maple Street.

It was a post office box in nearby Berwyn, registered to a company called Maple Hill Holdings.