“He told me we were only borrowing it until his stock accounts bounced back,” Evelyn said, her voice shaking as she stared down at the bank card.

“He had sixty-two thousand dollars in personal margin debt.

He said if I didn’t sign your name at the counter, the bank would take our cars and put a lien on our personal accounts.”

Chloe pushed her chair back three inches, her mouth hanging open.

“He brought the form home on a Tuesday,” Evelyn said, looking across the table at me.

“He made me sit at the kitchen island and practice tracing your signature four times on a paper napkin before we drove over to the store.”