I had believed his advice.

At times I had adopted his harshness as my own.

“We’ll need investigators to verify every entry,” the attorney said.

“The ledger is a lead, not a judgment.”

“Do that,” I answered.

“And make sure nobody destroys the underlying records.”

The letter addressed to me was in my father’s handwriting.

I recognized his severe, upright script, the one I had seen on report cards and contracts and lists of things I had done inadequately.