My hands shook as I clicked the tab labeled Residency. A scanned document opened, a quitclaim deed transferring 276 Cedar Lane to Gerald Pruitt. At the bottom sat my signature, notarized, dated three weeks earlier. I had never signed anything. The letters were close, but they leaned wrong, the way a stranger copies a name from the back of a check.

Then I saw the red stamp in the corner. Received for recording, yesterday, 4:50 p.m. My buyer was closing in nine days. Behind me, the circle around August 1 on that brochure suddenly looked like a countdown. I grabbed my keys and Harvey’s watch from the dresser. If that deed reached the county records, I would lose my house before anyone read my name.